


a favorite star in the heavens

by Felilla



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Actor!Roman, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Barista!Patton, Bartender!Virgil, Bullying, Coffee Shops, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, LAMP/CALM - Romantic, M/M, Multi, Musician!Virgil, Neurosurgeon!Logan, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Unsympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Writer!Patton, doctor!logan, mild violence, only really for a chapter though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-07-08 23:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 74,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19877620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felilla/pseuds/Felilla
Summary: Everyone has a soulmate and everyone has a mark engraved upon their skin, splashes of color that show where your soulmate first touches you. It is fate's way of cementing us together.Fate was feeling a little generous with these four boys.





	1. virgil alvarado

Virgil was seven when the first mark appeared. A bit of a late bloomer, his dads would always joke.

Virgil rocked back and forth of his feet as he waited for Papa to pick out fruit. His gaze wandered across the store. He was bored.

“Can I ride in the cart, Papa?” he asked suddenly, gripping the side of the basket.

Papa looked up from the apple he was inspecting. Virgil tried not to stick his tongue out. He didn’t like apples, even if his dads said they were good for him. “I think you’re getting a bit too big for that, Virge,” Papa said, his tone cool, even. Virgil had never heard Papa shout; he was always quiet, much quieter than Dad, who laughed and talked in what Virgil’s teachers called the “outside voice”.

“I’m not too big!” Virgil protested loudly, his volume dropping when Papa lowered a  _ look _ at him. He crossed his arms.“Dad can still pick me up.”

“Well,” Papa smiled a bit. “I’m not Dad, am I?”

Virgil contemplated his words before shaking his head. “You are  _ a _ dad, Papa.”

Papa chuckled, just as quiet as his voice. He set down the apple and adjusted his glasses. They were wire-framed and silver, always slipping down his nose.

Dad always teased Papa about his glasses, tugging them off his face and running away to hide them somewhere. Papa always pretended to be upset about it, but Virgil knew he wasn’t. He helped Papa find them most of the time. Dad acted sad when they did find them. “I just wanted to see Papa’s eyes,” he would cry out dramatically.

Papa always kissed him to shut him up and Virgil always said “Yuck!”.

“Arms out,” Papa said and Virgil complied. “And up we go!”

With a grunt, Papa lifted Virgil into the air and dropped him down into the shopping cart. Virgil squealed when the cold metal brushed against his legs. “There,” Papa wiped off his hands and grinned at Virgil. “Wasn’t sure I’d make it!”

When Papa held out his hand for a high five, Virgil didn’t hesitate. But then his Papa’s expression had gone from happy to confused to happy in a split second. Virgil started to lower his hand in confusion, but Papa caught it. That was when Virgil noticed the little light blue marks on the back of his hand.

“Your soulmark!” Papa exclaimed. “It appeared!”

Virgil knew about soulmarks, of course he did.  _ Everyone _ did.

He thought they looked like the paint splatters he sometimes got on his hands after art. They were bright and colorful, laid out in different patterns. Sometimes, they were small, barely noticeable. A backwards handprint on a palm or little spots on the inside of a wrist. Others were large and odd. A ring encircling a waist, an entire arm painted as if someone ran into them. But the reason for them was undeniable. Soulmarks were the first touch of a soulmate and, Virgil knew, when contact was made, the mark faded to white.

It was fate’s way of giving everyone a chance at happiness. At least, that’s what everyone told him.

Papa turned Virgil’s hand towards him gently, showing him the light blue splotch covering most of his palm. Virgil couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. He always wondered what his soulmark would be. Who didn’t? All of the exciting stories they could make. Like his dads. 

Virgil couldn’t see Papa’s soulmark, but he knew it was there, stark white, under his shirt. A handprint on his shoulder where Dad first touched him to stop him from running into a pole. Papa had had his face buried in a book and missed the approaching obstacle.

It was one of Virgil’s favorite stories.

“It’s just a handshake,” Virgil said, unable to stop his disappointment.

Papa let go of his hand, a little furrow in his brow. “What’s wrong with that, little cloud?” he asked.

“It’s so boring,” Virgil muttered. “I want something cool, like you and Dad.”

Papa laughed and laughed. He continued to laugh until everyone was looking at them. Virgil ducked his head, feeling a little embarrassed. When Papa finally stopped, he placed his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, his lips quirking into a smile. “Your Dad thought the exact same thing about his.”

“He did?” Virgil asked. He found that hard to believe, but then he remembered what Dad’s soulmark was. His entire right palm, fingers and all, was white. “Oh.”

“See?” Papa said, his smile growing. “Soulmarks are a beautiful thing, Virge. No soulmate story is boring.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, staring down at the blue splatter. He looked up at his Papa with a grin. “I can’t wait to shake their hand!”

“Me either. Now,” Papa looked around before turning back to him with a mischievous look. Virgil called it his “Cheshire Cat” smile. “How about we get some ice cream to celebrate? And we’ll pull Dad away from work.”

“Yeah!” Virgil exclaimed, his soulmark all but forgotten with the promise of ice cream. “Can we get strawberry?”

“Of course, little cloud.”

_____________________

Virgil didn’t get ice cream for the second one.

It was two days after he got his soulmark and he was feeling a little bit tired. He wouldn’t admit to it, but he’d spent most of the night before trying to see if he could talk to his soulmate through the mark. It was a silly idea. He’d never heard of anyone being able to do that, but he still tried.

He dragged himself to the bathroom, rubbing at his eyes. He gave himself the barest glance in the mirror. Then he stopped, touching the side of his face.

The mark was red, the color of a fire truck, and it almost looked like a rectangle if not for the four little bumps on the edge. Virgil knew this one. It was the same one that Tío Nicandro had, though his had been pale pink before he met Tía Rachel. Tía punched Tío in the face when they first met. Virgil found it funny whenever he heard the story, so he shrugged it off.

He didn’t quite understand what it meant to have two soulmarks.

So, when he hopped downstairs and Papa looked up from the breakfast he was cooking, he thought nothing of it. He just grinned, hoping to make a game of who noticed the red mark first.

“What’s on your face, Virge?” Papa asked. Winner, winner! “Did you get paint on yourself again?”

Virgil shook his head, suddenly a little shy. Maybe he’d get ice cream for breakfast for this soulmark! He really hoped so.

Dad looked up from his book, laughing loudly and shaking his head. “What’d we tell you about painting in your room?” he said, his tone light.

He got up and wet a paper towel to wipe it off. When it didn’t come off, both of his dads stopped, their faces completely slack. Virgil felt like they stared at him for a hundred years.

“Dads!” he shouted when he noticed the smoke coming from the eggs.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Papa hissed and threw the pan into the sink before wrenching on the water. 

The smoke alarm went off not a second later and his dads went scrambling to turn it off and stop the burning. Virgil just clamped his hands over his ears, wondering what distracted Papa. Papa never got distracted while cooking.

After things calmed down and Papa made some cinnamon toast for Virgil, they both sat down at the table. Dad checked his hand, where his blue soulmark still was, and Papa tilted his head this way and that to make quadruple sure that it wasn’t some kind of ink or paint.

“Are there any other ones?” Papa finally asked.

They stepped back to let Virgil eat and he watched in confusion as Dad left, his phone in hand.

“Uh,” he looked back at Papa, who watched him patiently. “No? I don’t think so?”

“Okay,” Papa’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Okay, good.”

Good? Was having two soulmarks  _ bad _ ? Why would it be bad?

Papa glanced over at the clock on the microwave and stood. “We need to get you ready for school,” he said. His gaze dropped down to Virgil’s red mark. “Maybe… Maybe you should wear gloves.”

“Wear gloves?” Virgil asked, confused. All he felt right now was a bunch of confusion. It was the middle of May. No one wore gloves in May.

“Yes,” Papa said. “All day. Like, like Mickey Mouse!”

He knew that Papa was just trying to make him feel better, so Virgil nodded. He was a little disappointed; he’d been hoping to show off his two soulmarks to his friends. Bit Virgil always (maybe not always) listened to his dads.

“Good,” Papa smiled for the first time since Virgil came downstairs. He walked towards where Dad had disappeared. “Alejandro! Can you find Virgil’s gloves?!”

_____________________

Virgil tried not to listen, he really did, but his curiosity got the best of him. He tiptoed over to the entrance that separated the living room from the kitchen and leaned against the wall. It was late, like really  _ super _ late and Virgil knew he was supposed to be in bed, but he just got so thirsty.

He never expected his dads to be up this late.

But he could hear them, just barely whispering in the living room. They’d both stayed home from work that day, he knew. Well, Dad worked from home, but he had taken the day off. He only knew that because they picked him up from school, instead of having him ride the bus like he usually did.

Virgil was a smart kid. He knew when something was upsetting his dads. He’d spent most of the night trying to make them laugh, even going so far as to offer to play a board game with them. And Virgil  _ hated _ board games. But they’d refused and they tucked him in early for the night.

Now they were whispering in the living room at way too late at night.

“Abuela said it was bad luck,” Dad said. Virgil had never heard Dad be so quiet before. “That the red mark is a devil’s mark.”

Virgil stilled. He’d only been to church a handful of times, but he knew very well who the devil was. And that he was a very, very bad thing. 

“Your grandmother always exaggerates things, AJ,” Papa responded. He sounded tired and Virgil couldn’t blame him. He was still really tired too.

“But what if she’s right, James? What if our son is cursed by the devil?”

“You don’t even believe in the devil.”

A pause. Virgil held his breath. “Right,” Dad sighed. “You’re right, like always.”

“Of course I am. Come sit down,  _ mi corazón _ , and let’s talk about this rationally.”

Virgil heard their old couch creak as Dad sat down. There were several moments of silence before Papa spoke again. “Now, having two soulmarks might seem wrong-”

Virgil stood up. He’d heard all he needed to hear. He climbed the stairs as quietly as possible and wiggled himself into bed, his thirst forgotten.

_____________________

The third and last soulmark appeared on his shoulder the next day. This one was a dark blue stain with no discernible shape. He shoved down the excitement he felt when he saw it. If two was bad, then three… Three was terrible. And Virgil didn’t want to be terrible. He wanted to be good.

So he tugged on a t-shirt and decided not to tell anyone. Ever.

When he went downstairs, only Papa was there, once again cooking breakfast. This time, there were no eggs. He looked up as Virgil entered. “Good morning, little cloud,” he said with a soft, tired smile. “Dad was really tired this morning, so he’s sleeping in.”

Virgil wanted to believe that was true, but what if Dad just didn’t want to see him? He sat down and poured himself some orange juice. The air felt weird and icky, so he just stayed quiet, tracing circles in their kitchen table.

Papa sat down not too long after, putting a plate of food in front of Virgil. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Papa cleared his throat. Virgil jumped at the sudden sound. “You know Dad and I love you, right?” Papa said softly. He sounded sad.

Virgil nodded, still staring at the table. He waited for the “but”. It didn’t come. Papa didn’t say anything else. He just cleaned up their half-eaten food and sent Virgil upstairs to get ready for school.

Even so, when Virgil left for school, he tugged his fluffy purple gloves on and made sure his dark blue blob was hidden away. And he went out into the world as a boy with only one soulmate.


	2. patton blumenthal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton meets his first soulmate.

Patton met his first soulmate in middle school. It’d been the first day of seventh grade and, coincidentally, his twelfth birthday.

He entered the building, gripping the straps of his backpack so tightly his knuckles turned white. It was a stark contrast to the bright grin spread across his face. Nobody really paid him much mind, all talking to their friends or the teachers, but he couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. Unlike most of the students, Patton didn’t have any friends. He’d had one, but Elliot moved away over the summer.

Patton figured his lack of friends was his fault, really.

He never hid away his soulmarks. The purple one on his right palm, the dark blue one on the slope of his neck, and the vibrant red one covering the back of his left hand. He found all of them beautiful and wore them proudly.

Even if some people looked at him weird.

He knew that, in the end, it would be worth it. Because he had three soulmates out there and he had no doubt that they were all wonderful, accepting people that would love him no matter what. So, if he had to live without friends for a little bit longer, he would.

Patton lived in a small town, one of those towns where everyone knew everyone else. That also meant, unfortunately, that everyone knew Patton and Patton knew everyone else as well.

He’d been eight when his soulmarks appeared, in quick succession of one another. Before that, Patton had loads of friends. He was always picked first for teams, always invited over to people’s houses, always caught chatting in class. Patton made friends with everything that moved and sometimes, as proven with the oak tree behind his house, with things that didn’t.

It was a trait he got from his mom. Everyone always said that the Blumenthals couldn’t hurt a fly. It was a little more true than most people realized; the first time Patton accidentally killed a bug, he cried for two hours. Mom almost cried too and they had a full blown funeral for the little fly.

Perhaps that was why people had no problem taking advantage of Patton.

“Hey, Patton,” a voice crooned from one of the lockers.

Patton froze. The voice was one he was familiar with; one that he dreaded to hear. He couldn’t wait until next year when Walter Galip graduated from middle school. Then, at least, he’d have a year without his constant cruelty.

Patton considered his options. He could keep walking. He only had a few more doors until he reached his classroom. But Walter would find him eventually; he always did.

He turned to the older boy slowly, self-consciously tugging his sweater’s sleeves over his hands. He smiled at Walter. “Hiya, Walter,” he greeted, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “How was your summer?”

“Great, actually,” Walter said as he held out his hand. Where a green stain had once been was now a white patch. “I met my soulmate on the beach in California.”

Even though he didn’t like Walter, Patton couldn’t help the giddy giggle that escaped him. Soulmates, even the soulmates of terrible people, always made him excited. “Really?! What’re they like?”

“Perfect,” Walter said, his neutral expression turning into a sneer as he stuffed his hand back into his pocket. “What about your soulmate, Patton? Oh, sorry,  _ soulmates _ .”

Patton’s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to keep his smile.  _ Always smile in the face of adversity _ . That’s what Mom said. “I haven’t met any of them yet, but I will one day.”

Walter looked him up and down. “It’s a good thing they’ll have other options,” he said and his friends laughed.

“Yeah,” Tommy Andrews added. “I’d feel sorry for the person that got stuck with you.”

Patton shuffled his feet and dropped his gaze. He could feel his smile faltering, tears filling his eyes. But he blinked them back before smiling at the four boys again. “I’m excited to meet them. I’m sure they’re excited to meet me too.”

Walter’s self-satisfied smirk fell as he seemed to realize his insults weren’t working like he wanted them to. Patton was ready to walk away, a challenge of the day conquered, when Walter said, “Stop smiling, freak.”

Patton stopped dead, his lips twitching. “Yeah,” Ezekiel added. “Only freaks smile all the time.”

Mom smiled all the time. Both of the Blumenthals smiled all the time. It was why people liked them. Or rather, why people used to like Patton.

“I need to get to class,” Patton said quietly.

He turned to go when one of them caught his backpack. The tears were threatening to fall again. “Please let go,” Patton said, trying to squirm out of his Tommy’s grip. But Tommy was older and was on the wrestling team at that, so he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away without abandoning his backpack.

And he refused to leave the pack behind. It’d been an early birthday present, a patchwork bag that looked like a quilt. Mom worked on it for months.

“Did your mommy make this for you?” Walter sneered.

Tommy tugged and, in his sudden panic, Patton pulled back. And then Patton heard a tear. The bag ripped as Patton went tumbling forward, landing painfully on his knees. Stunned silence followed before a raucous laugh rose up from, it seemed, the entire school.

This time, he couldn’t stop the tears as they rolled down his cheeks. He turned around, ignoring the way he legs screamed in protest, and his gaze turned to his backpack. The strap had been pulled off completely and everything had fallen out of it. Patton tried to ignore everyone as he shoved everything back into his bag. It wasn’t working.

“What’s going on over here?!”

Patton paused, using his sleeves to wipe at his face. He didn’t recognize that voice, which didn’t make any sense. He knew everyone at his middle school, even the sixth graders. Everyone knew everyone.

“And who are you?” Walter asked, a snigger in his voice.

“Roman Carroll, at your service!” the voice declared quite loudly.

Patton looked up at the newcomer. He had to be a new student. Roman Carroll was tall, taller than Walter, with vibrant orange hair, bright blue-green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. To Patton, he looked every bit like a knight in shining armor.

“Well,  _ Roman _ ,” Walter said, drawing out his name with a smirk. “We were just teaching this freak a lesson. Care to join?”

Roman looked down, apparently noticing Patton for the first time. He blinked slowly. Patton attempted a feeble smile and to his utter joy, Roman smiled back. “Stop smiling, freak,” Tommy hissed, moving to grab at Patton, who stumbled back away from him.

“Hey!” Roman shouted.

Patton didn’t have time to react before Roman’s fist slammed into Tommy Andrew’s face. Tommy dropped like a rock, clutching at his cheek. That shut everyone up real fast.

“What the  _ hell _ ?!” Walter exclaimed and Roman whirled on him.

“You want to be next?” he asked, his voice scarily calm despite his clenched fists shaking. “What the  _ fuck _ is wrong with you?”

“Language,” Patton murmured despite himself. He shrunk in on himself when Walter glared at him.

“No,” Roman stepped in front of Patton, moving towards Walter.

Walter paled and sprinted away with Ezekiel and Neil on his heels. Roman turned towards Tommy, who quickly scrambled to his feet after his friends. Eventually the crowd dispersed and the bell rang, but Patton and Roman remained rooted to their spots.

“You-” Patton’s words caught in his throat and he coughed. He forced a smile onto his face again. It was a bit easier now. “You should head to class or you’ll be late.”

Roman turned towards him slowly, his hands and posture starting to relax. Without a word, he crouched down and started to put Patton’s stuff back into his bag. Patton watched him in dumbfounded silence.

“I like your bag,” Roman said, a small smile slipping onto his face. It was warm, genuine. And it almost made Patton cry all over again. “Did you make it?”

Patton shook his head quickly. “No. My mom did,” he laughed a little breathlessly. “I can’t sew.”

“I can,” Roman looked at the tear, inspecting it and turning it left and right. “I have some sewing stuff in my bag if you want me to fix it.”

“Oh,” Patton could feel his cheeks reddening as Roman raised his gaze back to his face. His eyes were even prettier up close. “Oh, um… You don’t have to do that.”

“I know!” Roman grinned, showing off the rainbow braces on his teeth. “But I want to.”

Patton lost it. The tears flowed down his face freely once again and he curled in on himself as he started sobbing into his knees. Roman appeared taken aback, clearly not expecting that reaction. “Hey, um, don’t cry,” he said, stumbling over his words. “I won’t fix if you don’t want me to. Please don’t cry.”

He leaned forward, placing his hand on top of Patton’s in a clear attempt to calm him down.

It felt like a jolt of electricity.

Mom always told Patton the story of how she met Mallory. Mallory was Mom’s soulmate, but Mallory was also aro-ace, so the two, while being closer than close and like a mother to Patton, had never shared a romantic relationship. But that didn’t change what happened when they first made contact. Mom described it as a lightning storm beneath her skin. She felt alight, warm, and safe.

Patton almost didn’t want to look up.

“Oh,” Roman said softly.

Patton did look up then to find Roman staring at him, his expression kind and gentle. A bright, unhindered grin spread across Patton’s face until his cheeks hurt. Roman mirrored the expression.

He suddenly stood, tugging Patton to his feet with him. Without warning, Roman lifted Patton into the air and whirled him around. Patton let out a squeal of delight, his arms wrapped around Roman’s shoulders so he wouldn’t fall down.

“Hey!”

They stopped suddenly, turning to the teacher watching them from down the hall. “Get to class, you two,” she said sternly.

“Yes, Mrs. Popper!” Patton responded amidst his giggling.

Mrs. Popper rolled her eyes and continued walking away. Patton turned back to Roman, who was watching him as if he was the only thing in the world. A blush crawled up the smaller boy’s face. Roman slowly set him down before scooping up Patton’s bag. Patton took his bag with a small thanks.

“My name’s Patton,” Patton said, holding out his hand.

“Roman,” Roman said, even though Patton already knew that. He took Patton’s hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

They stood there, a little awkwardly, before Roman rubbed the back of his neck, a blush crawling up his cheeks. “Do you think you can help me find my class?”

Nobody bothered Patton again.


	3. roman carroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman and Patton need to talk.

Roman loved Patton more than anything in the world. He really, truly did. But sometimes, when he looked down at his left hand and saw the dark blue stain on his palm and the purple stain on his knuckles, he wished and prayed and hoped that his two other soulmates would appear. And he hated that he thought such terrible things because why couldn’t he just be content with Patton, the most wonderful soulmate in the world?

So he did the only reasonable thing anyone would do. He asked his therapist brother-in-law.

Roman was beyond grateful when Remy let him move in with him and his husband in middle school. Of course, meeting Patton only made it that much better. But really, at the time, Roman had only been looking to get away from his evil twin brother, Remus. The same Remus that got into fights and got into trouble and claimed to be Roman. The same Remus that got Roman expelled from not one, but  _ two _ different middle schools in the city.

It was a miracle that Roman hadn’t been expelled from the town’s middle school after he punched Tommy Andrews in the face. Maybe it was because, unlike Remus, he actually didn’t want to get caught.

Emile and Remy had seemed unbothered by the fact that Roman got into a fight, especially after they met Patton.

Honestly, Roman wasn’t sure if he could find a more perfect boyfriend if he tried. And why would he try? Patton was thoughtful, sweet, kind, and he could cook! When Roman got the lead in the middle school’s play, Patton had been there, in the front row, at every performance. When Roman managed to pull his math grade up from a D to a B-, Patton had baked him an entire batch of cookies shaped like B’s. When Roman was scared to go into the doctor’s after falling out of a tree and breaking his arm, Patton had been there, holding his uninjured hand and making puns about every object in the waiting room.

So yeah, Roman felt a little bad wishing their other soulmates were there with them. He would trace the mark on Patton’s neck and kiss the palm of his hand, ignoring the guilt pooling in his stomach each time he made a pleased little noise.

Emile looked up from his laptop when Roman walked into the kitchen. It was just shy of eight, way too early for Roman to be up on a weekend. Let alone be up and dressed.

“Are you going somewhere with Patton?” Emile asked before he took a slow sip of his tea. Roman always found it funny that his brother, the sole reason that the town’s Starbucks was still open, had a tea-drinking soulmate.

Roman knew that Remy wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. His older brother worked as a nighttime security guard at the local power plant. It was a job that he hated, but it paid the bills and paid well enough that Remy could put aside enough money to one day open his own coffee shop somewhere else, outside of this tiny town. 

Originally, Emile and Remy only came to the town because Emile’s mother was sick. And unfortunately, she passed away not long after. By that time, Emile had already started teaching psychology at the local college and Remy at the power plant. They had decided to wait to move until Remy had enough for the store.

“No,” Roman said as he reached for his Aries mug. He filled it up with the coffee already sitting on the burner and poured in a bunch of cream and sugar. “I was actually hoping we could talk?”

“Of course,” Emile closed his laptop and Roman sat down across from him. “What’s troubling you?”

Roman sighed and took a slow sip from his coffee. Wanting to talk to Emile and  _ actually _ talking to Emile were two completely different things. Emile didn’t rush him and Roman knew he wouldn’t. He  _ was _ a therapist after all, even if just taught psychology now.

Several seconds ticked by before Roman said, “I’m worried I might not love Patton enough.”

Emile blinked, clearly startled by the admission. Then he looked away and looked back Roman. “Why do you think that?”

It took Roman another couple of seconds to answer and he was really,  _ seriously _ regretting this decision. Maybe he should just call Patton and see if wanted to do something today. He knew his boyfriend would be awake because Patton had to wake up early to feed their chickens.

“Because sometimes I’ll see my other soulmarks or I’ll see Patton’s and wish that our other soulmates were there.”

“Do you wish they were there  _ instead _ of Patton?”

“What?!” Roman exclaimed and almost jumped out of his chair at the accusation. “Of course not!”

“Then what makes you think you don’t love Patton enough?” Emile questioned.

Roman settled back into his seat, taking another quick sip of coffee. “Because I’m not completely happy with just him there. I should be happy with just him, right? Even if I never meet the other two?”

“Well, not necessarily. Roman, you and Patton are a little bit different from most soulmates. You aren’t two wholes.”

Roman scrunched up his nose. “Weird analogy.”

“No,” Emile laughed. “No, oh dear. I meant that you aren’t just two soulmates. I hate to refer to two people as half of a whole because we’re always a whole person.”

“I…” Roman muttered. “I still have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Okay,” Emile pursed his lips for a moment before nodding, most likely to himself. “Let’s say that every person carries a little piece of their soulmate with them until they meet, alright?”

Roman nodded.

“So for most people, like Remy and me or your mom and dad, that would mean that only a single piece of them is missing. And then, when they meet their soulmate, that piece is returned.”

“A they’re whole again.”

Emile sighed softly, but nodded. “Yes, they’re whole again. Anyways, you and Patton are a bit different because you each have three soulmates, likely the same people. So, in order to be complete and get all of the pieces back, you have to meet all of your soulmates.”

“So it’s not that I don’t love Patton enough?”

“No dear. You clearly adore Patton, everyone can see that. You’re just restless because, right now, you’re only half of a four piece puzzle.”

* * *

Roman decided to bring it up to Patton a couple of days later. After all, if he’d learned anything from Emile and Remy, it was that communication was the key to any good relationship.

They laid in Roman’s bed, tangled up together with Patton’s head pressed to Roman’s chest and Roman’s face pressed into Patton’s hair. They were supposed to be studying for their SATs, but it was getting later into the night and neither of them seemed inclined to do anymore practice questions.

Patton drew lazy circles on Roman’s exposed side, his touch light and feathery. It’d been more than four years since they met on the first day of seventh grade, but Roman still felt the same burst of happiness every time he was with Patton. He wondered if this was how elderly couples felt, holding hands as they walked through the park, their soulmarks stained white. He hoped so.

Patton’s lips fluttered against Roman’s collarbone and the taller boy popped open his eyes to look down at him. Patton was small, having only grown a couple of inches since seventh grade, and his hair was still a mess of golden curls. And his eyes, his beautiful eyes, were the brightest blue Roman had ever seen, the color of the cornflowers that the Blumenthals grew every spring.

“Hey,” Roman said, his voice a little thick with grogginess. If he was going to talk to Patton, he’d likely have to pull himself out of their cocoon.

“Hi,” Patton responded, a soft, fond smile dancing on his face. “You looked like you were drifting off.”

Roman’s heart melted at the look and the mellow tone of his voice. He mentally shook himself. He needed to talk to Patton, not swoon over him. “Pat-” he started, only to be promptly cut off by Patton kissing him.

Damn. His one true weakness. Patton’s hand came up to caress Roman’s cheek and he found himself rendered completely vulnerable. Roman tilted his head, pulling Patton closer to him until they were flush against each other. When Patton started to shift them, his lips trailing to Roman’s cheek and jaw, Roman’s eyes flew open and he remembered that he needed to talk.

“Pat,” he said, sounding breathless and dare he say it, a little whiny.

Patton hummed in response, his chest reverberating against Roman’s pleasantly. “Pat,” Roman tried again as Patton pressed a kiss to his adam’s apple. “ _ Patton _ .”

Patton pulled away immediately, his expression startled. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. Are you okay-”

Roman pressed a firm, but chaste kiss to Patton’s lips to shut him up. When he pulled back, Patton was staring up at him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing’s wrong, my love.” Roman said, a small laugh in his voice. “We just need to talk.”

He expected a small affirmation from Patton, but when Roman looked down, his boyfriend looked like a cornered animal despite the small smile on his face. All of Roman’s words died on his lips. “Pat?”

“What…” Patton looked down, his smile never dropping. “What do we need to talk about?”

Roman swallowed. “Our other two soulmates.”

“Oh.”

Roman had never been more baffled by Patton’s demeanor. The look in his eyes didn’t match his smile and his even tone didn’t match his eyes. He looked like a puzzle that had been put together wrong. Roman didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Patton said suddenly, his voice thick and his expression crumpling. Before Roman knew what was happening, Patton was sobbing in his bed, whispering apologies over and over.

Roman was stunned, unable to properly react. Patton had been crying the first day they met, but since that day, Roman had never seen him cry again. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Patton always got a little misty-eyed over movies and he sometimes cried when Roman killed the spiders in his house (and Patton  _ hated _ spiders), but this was something completely different.

And then suddenly, Patton was curling in on himself, pressing his hands against his mouth. Romas realized with a start that he was trying to muffle his sobs. “Hey, hey,” Roman grabbed at Patton’s hands, prying them away from his mouth. “It’s okay. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

“I’m a horrible person,” Patton sobbed out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I shouldn’t- I love  _ you _ . I-”

Roman shushed Patton, running his hand through the smaller boy’s hair, humming some random tune that popped into his head. He rocked Patton back and forth, pressing kisses to his head until his sobs dwindled down to sniffles.

“Breathe, my love,” Roman whispered softly. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton said quietly. “I’m a horrible person. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Roman shook his head. “No, you could never be-”

“But I am!” Patton pulled back a bit. “I am, Roman.”

“How?” Roman asked, a little more harshly than he intended. 

Patton shrunk away from him and sat up, wrapping his arms around himself. Roman sat up as well. He noticed at Patton was staring down at his hand, the one stained purple. His fingers curled closed as he huffed out a breath.

“How, Patton?” Roman asked again. “How are you a bad person?”

Minutes ticked by and neither of them spoke. Patton looked like he came close to crying a couple more times, but managed to bite it back. It scared Roman how easy it was for Patton to stop his tears. How many times had he done it?

“I keep thinking about them,” Patton said, drawing Roman out of his thoughts. “Even when-”

“Even when we’re together?” Roman asked.

“Yes.” Patton sounded small and Roman’s heart broke. 

He hadn’t realized Patton was dealing with the same thoughts as him. And unlike Roman, Patton didn’t really have someone to talk to about something like this. His mom and Mallory were platonic and Mrs. Blumenthal never really sought out a relationship with anyone else. Roman had Emile and Remy and, by a lesser extension, his parents.

“It’s okay,” Roman said and when Patton opened his mouth to protest, his quickly continued. “I feel the same way sometimes.”

Patton’s expression screwed up into confusion and then understanding and then joy. He giggled, rubbing at his reddening face and shuffling a bit. “Oh thank goodness!” he exclaimed, a bright happy grin spreading across his face. “Soul mate-be it’s not just me?”

Roman groaned and covered his face to hide the smile forming. “That was terrible, Patton, absolutely terrible.”

“You love it,” Patton said.

Roman looked over at him and winked. “Soul mate-be I do.”

And then Patton launched himself at Roman and they both tumbled back onto the bed. Patton took Roman’s hand, pressing firm kisses to his palm and his knuckles. Roman reciprocated the action with Patton’s soulmarks before kissing him squarely on the lips.

Needless to say, Roman almost forgot about the other two soulmates that night.

Almost.


	4. logan sanders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan doesn't want a soulmate, let alone three.

Thomas liked to remind Logan that while he had three soulmates, he only had  _ one _ twin brother. Of course, Thomas was the only one that knew Logan had three soulmates. Not even their Nana was aware of that little fact.

Logan, in turn, liked to remind Thomas that he didn’t want his soulmates.

Before his soulmarks appeared, Logan resigned himself to having a soulmate, no matter how little he desired one. It honestly just sounded exhausting, being so enamored with someone that he’d probably die for them. At least, that’s what most of the media claimed. Logan, himself, doubted he would die for anyone aside from his family. And even then, he would not likely attempt it if for no other reason than running the risk of being brought back to life and promptly killed by either Nana or Thomas. Or both, perhaps.

No, that just sounded awful.

So he put the whole soulmate nonsense to the back of his mind. Or he tried to anyways. It was quite difficult to forget the concept when the entire world revolved around it. Or when he saw his own soulmarks everyday. Sometimes, when completely he was alone and it was the middle of the night, Logan would sit and trace the marks, going through the thousands of scenarios that could lead to them turning white.

One of them was pretty straight forward. There was a handprint, bright red and on his shoulder, the thumb brushing his collarbone. Another was a little more baffling, a dark purple oval on his shoulder, opposite the first one. The last one was the strangest, a light blue spot in the crook of his elbow. 

The most obvious mark was, of course, the red one. But he still hid away until collared shirts. He was more than content to have everyone believe he was soulmate-less. After all, that was statistically much more probable than having three.

And possibly genetic, seeing as Nana didn’t have a soulmate either. Thomas and Logan often speculated as to why, but the only conclusion that they could come up with was much too sad. Even so, Nana had lived a happy and fulfilling life with a husband that loved her more than anything and five children, one of which was, of course, Logan and Thomas’s father.

Still, he didn’t miss the sad glances Nana gave him when Thomas brought Kristopher over. Logan couldn’t understand it. He was quite happy to let Thomas be the grandchild with a soulmate. Logan was also quite happy to lie to himself.

Logan had most definitely  _ not  _ chosen a university on the other side of the country to get away from those sad looks. New York University had a wonderful neurosurgery program. When he told Nana that, she gave him another sad look, but this one was for a much different reason.

“Neurosurgery, Loganberry?” Nana said softly, pausing in stirring whatever kind of soup she was making.

“Yes,” he said, keeping his hands steepled on the table in front of him. “That is my decided occupation. It makes logical sense; I have always excelled in both chemical and biological fields.”

Logan waited for her to respond. He expected that she would be proud of him. Neurosurgery would pay off in the end. He would be able to afford in-home care for her when neither he nor Thomas were able to take care of her any longer. It was not as if Logan expected Thomas’s theater career to fill that role.

Nana sighed and turned away. “No one could’ve saved her, child.”

Logan’s stomach and chest tightened uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to respond, but when no words came out, he promptly closed it again. “Forgive me, Nana. I do not feel so well.”

He knew that she was watching him leave, but he did not comment on it. Instead, he walked through the small house into the room that he and Thomas shared. He would study. Academics always took his mind off of the less pleasant aspects of the world.

He was nearly done with his Calculus II homework when Thomas came in, holding a bowl of soup.

Thomas looked a little upset, though Logan couldn’t imagine why. He’d already spoken with his twin about his plans for college and Thomas had agreed with him that it was a good course of action. Of course, when he’d mentioned the paying for Nana’s in-home care idea, Thomas had been a little on edge. Logan figured it was because Nana was older and Thomas did not like to be reminded of that fact.

Logan watched as his brother set the soup, which he could now identify as wild rice soup, down on his desk. Thomas lingered for a moment before sitting down the edge of his bed, fiddling with a stray thread on his quilt. 

It was quite easy to tell which side was Logan’s and which side was Thomas’s. While the two brothers were very close, they were also very different. Logan’s side had academic medals on the shelf above his bed, non-fiction books on his bookshelf, and planetary diagrams hanging from his side of the ceiling. Aside from the astronomy themed quilt and his collection of Star Wars DVDs, his area was quite devoid of personality.

Thomas’s side was a metaphorical explosion of color. Bright red sheets and a Disney quilt. A wide variety of books, ranging from theoretical physics to his Percy Jackson collection, overflowed from his bookshelf. He had playbooks from stage productions displayed on his shelf, a couple of medals, academic and otherwise, and a string of christmas lights strung around his bed in a circle. 

Thomas bounced a little in place until Logan sighed and closed his book. He at a spoonful of the lukewarm soup before turning to his twin. “Yes, Thomas?”

“New York?”

That was all Thomas said and it occurred to Logan that he had not, in fact, mentioned which school he planned to attend, only the major. His shoulders slumped a bit, a deviation from his usually neutral expression. He did not like to see his brother so sad.

“Yes,” he replied.

“That’s really far away.”

“Yes.”

New York was a little less than 3,000 miles away from their current town of Redmond, Washington.

“New York City is really big.”

“Yes.”

New York City’s population was roughly twelve times the population of Seattle, the largest city Logan and Thomas had ever been to.

They lapsed into silence and Logan took the time to eat the rest of his soup before it grew cold. It was several minutes later when Thomas said, “Nana is worried about you.”

Logan knew that. He glanced at Thomas out of the corner of his eye. “She needn’t be.”

Thomas nodded once, but then he shook his head. The change in movement confused Logan, so he looked over at his twin with a slightly quizzical raise of his eyebrows. “I’m worried about you too, Lo,” Thomas said. “Are you sure this is just about being good in chemistry and biology.”

“Yes,” Logan said without hesitation. “I assure you it is.”

“Mom’s condition-”

“This isn’t about Mom!” Logan exclaimed, shoving away from the desk.

Thomas jumped at the shout, his gaze raising to Logan in surprise. Logan flushed, biting down on his lip. After a moment, he cleared his throat and started to take off his tie. “I appreciate your concern, Thomas,” he said, pushing down the emotions that roiled in his stomach. “But this has nothing to do with Mom. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe it is time to get ready for bed. I will take a shower first.”

As he made his way to the bathroom the two boys shared, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No, he reassured himself, this was not about Mom.

Logan was always quite happy to lie to himself.

* * *

The Honors dorms were just a tad bit bigger than the regular dorms, but they were private and that was all Logan really care about. Though, he realized, it was going to be a bit strange sleeping in a room without Thomas. Logan set his suitcase down on top of the dresser as Thomas bustled in with a box in his hands.

“Okay!” Thomas exclaimed as Kristopher came in behind him, holding another box. “Two boxes down.”

Thomas set the box down on the floor at the foot of the bed before turning towards his brother. Logan watched him quietly, his lips tugged into a frown. “What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

Instead of responding, Logan stepped towards his brother and awkwardly wrapped his arms around him. Logan was not usually an affectionate person. He loathed most forms of affection, like hugs and kisses, but this time was an exception. This time, he craved the love of his brother.

Thomas responded in kind, hugging Logan tightly and rocking them back and forth slightly. “You okay, Loganberry?” Thomas asked.

Logan didn’t respond for several seconds, just hugged his twin a little bit harder. When he pulled away, he was startled to find that his throat was closing up and his eyes burned. He was going to cry. Logan’s gaze darted over to Kristopher, who pretended he wasn’t paying attention. He was going to cry in front of  _ Kristopher _ .

Thomas seemed to get the hint because he turned to his soulmate and muttered something. Kristopher nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Logan let the dam break, burying his face into his hands. His sobbing was silent, but his shoulders still shook. Thomas pulled him into another hug.

It only took Logan a few minutes to calm down. He and Thomas sat down on the edge of his bed, silent as they both stared at the ground. Logan wanted to curl his hands around the bottom of his bed frame, but the metal of the unfamiliar bed bit into his fingers.

“I am sorry for that little emotional outburst,” Logan said, settling his hands in his lap. “I just realized that we are no longer going to be sharing a bedroom.”

“Is that all?” Thomas asked.

Logan looked over at him with a small nod. And really, it was more than that and they both knew that, but Thomas wasn’t going to push him. “We’ll see each other on the holidays,” Thomas said with a smile. “And share the same room.”

Logan allowed himself a small chuckle, “We both know you are going to be spending all of your time with Kristopher on the holidays.”

Thomas pouted, “Well, it’s not my fault Kris chose to go to a different college!”

Logan smirked at his twin brother before realizing how long it would be until they saw each other again. He’d never been away from Thomas for so long. Thomas nudged his arm. “Earth to Logan,” he called in a sing-songy tone. “You’re starting to get misty-eyed again.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize, nerd,” Thomas said and Logan looked at him incredulously. Arguably, Thomas was a bigger nerd than he was. Logan was merely an intellectual with an appreciation for sci-fi. “Look, it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again. And we have phones! We can call and text all we want to, okay? It’s going to be fine, Logan.”

Right. It was going to be fine. “I will miss you,” Logan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Thomas said before opening his arms for another hug.

Logan wasn’t going to turn it down. After all, once Thomas left, he would be completely alone.

And if anyone ever asked if, later that night, Logan sat down on his bed, alone in the dark, and traced the soulmarks on his body, he would deny it.

* * *

The halls were crowded, much more crowded than the halls in Logan’s high school had ever been. He felt boxed in at every angle, bodies crushed against him, brushing past him without so much as an “excuse me”. The people of New York were quite uncivilized, he decided. He did not think he minded it though.

At least, he did not mind it until a body brushed past Logan’s shoulder and a jolt of electricity shot through his body. Logan stopped dead in his tracks, more on impulse than him actually wanting to. He felt… Warm, comfortable despite the people pushing him around. He almost wanted to keep walking, but his feet remained rooted to the spot.

When he turned, a boy his age was watching him with a startled expression, his hand gripping his shoulder. He was cute, Logan had to admit, despite the slight sloppiness of his appearance. 

His black hair was cut to partially cover his eyes, which were a deep, dark brown that bordered on black. His skin was a pale tan, suggesting he was naturally brown, but spent much of his time indoors. He wore a baggy hoodie which made no sense in the warm weather, though Logan couldn’t judge him in his long-sleeved shirt, and instead of a bag, he had a guitar case on his back. He also wore a pair of fingerless black gloves and there was a red soulmark on his cheek, the same color as the one on Logan’s shoulder.

Neither of them moved, both appearing like a deer caught in the headlights. The boy’s jaw trembled before he took a few deep, measured breaths. Logan watched him with a sick sort of fascination. He could not tear his gaze away, even if he wanted to. And he was not sure he did.

After a moment, the boy nodded to Logan. Logan nodded back, unsure of what one does when they meet their soulmate. Should he step towards him, introduce himself? Logan realized he should’ve researched the appropriate response. He knew it would happen eventually, bur he'd hoped he would have more time before then. After all, many people didn’t even meet their soulmates until after they retired.

The boy’s gloved hand shook as he offered Logan a two-fingered salute. And Logan watched, with a sharp sting of bittersweetness, as one of his soulmates turned and walked away.


	5. virgil alvarado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil needs to talk to someone.
> 
> TW: Panic attacks, mentions of alcoholism, death, and compulsive lying

Virgil pressed his forehead to the cool plastic of his guitar case, trying to lose his thoughts to the music blaring in his ears. He should’ve been getting to class, but honestly his legs felt like jelly and his heart was pounding so hard he could feel it. Class was the last thing he was worried about right now.

The first thing he was worried about was the boy in the hall. One of his soulmates, apparently. Virgil kept his fingers clenched around his hoodie, over his shoulder, where they’d bumped. It was an accident, of course. It was always an accident. It wasn’t the boy’s fault that he got stuck with a mess like Virgil as one of his soulmates.

Virgil retreated further into his hoodie. He didn’t even want his soulmates, he reminded himself. He wanted to forget they even existed and just go through his life without worrying about it. But of course, Virgil was Virgil, so how could he not worry about it?

How could he not worry about what they’d think of him? If they’d like him? If they even wanted this? If they were just as afraid as he was?

He hadn’t meant to ignore them though. Virgil hadn’t thought in the moment, staring into those hazel eyes. He just did. And that action was walking away from the situation as quickly as possible. God, he was so stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Did he really think he could run from this? From his soulmates? Did he even want to?

He could still see the other boy’s eyes, his brown hair cut clean and pushed away from his pale, bespectacled face. He looked out of place in the crowd of young adults, dressed in a button-up and slacks and oxfords of all things. But Virgil couldn’t look away. If he didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought himself… Smitten.

No. No, he could not fall in love with one of his soulmates, especially the soulmate he’d kept secret from his dads. Oh god, what if his dads found out he’d been lying to them all this time? What would they do? Two soulmarks had been bad enough. What if they were angry? What if they thought he was disgusting? What if they disowned him?

Virgil could feel the walls quickly closing in him, his chest constricting painfully, his ears ringing. He needed to- Needed- Needed- Virgil’s hands fumbled with his phone as he ripped it out of his hoodie pocket. He couldn’t even process his action as he hit the emergency contact button and clicked the name that popped up.

The phone rang. Of course it did, that’s what phones did. But he needed them to pick up. He needed them to talk. What if they didn’t want to talk to him? What if he was annoying them? What if-

“Hello?”

Virgil gasped, the air not quite working its way into his lungs. “Dee?” he managed to whisper as he clenched his eyes shut.

“Virgil?"

Virgil could distantly hear the voice of his best friend, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of rapid breathing. He needed to breathe. He knew he needed to breathe.

“V,” Declan said. “Virgil, where are you?”

“I-” Virgil’s throat clenched and a small choked sound forced itself out of his mouth.

“Okay. Okay, breathe with me, Virgil,” Declan said. “In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Ready. Breathe with me.”

Virgil tried his hardest to follow Declan’s breathing. It was always a little bit harder over the phone, but when he finally got the rhythm, he could feel himself calming. “Okay,” Virgil said, his voice hoarse and strained. “I think… I think I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause and Virgil wondered if Declan hung up. He wouldn’t blame him. He was supposed to be in class. But after a moment, he heard a sigh. “Well, that was definitely not concerning,” Declan said and Virgil huffed out the barest laugh. “Truly, the best way to start your first day of college.”

Virgil winced. “Sorry."

He could almost hear Declan rolling his eyes. “I am not going to help you again; this was way too much for me. We’ve definitely never done this before.”  
“I get it, Dee,” Virgil tried to sound annoyed despite the smile creeping onto his face.

“What happened?” Declan questioned.

Virgil froze before taking a slow, unsteady breath. He needed a few more moments before he could talk about it. “Can you meet me at that little cafe in twenty minutes?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Declan said. “See you soon.”

Virgil waited for Declan to hang up before stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He took a moment to turn his music back on before slowly uncurling himself from the floor. The thought of class fluttered through his mind, but he quickly shoved it away. Declan would help him figure it out later; he always did.

* * *

When Virgil first met Declan Patrick as a sophomore in high school, he’d hated him. Declan was everything Virgil wasn’t: confident, charismatic, and friendly. Or so it seemed. Declan lost all of his popularity within the first week of him being at the new school.

Apparently, good looks and winning words could only get one so far.

Because Declan had a little problem.

Despite what he’d told everyone, he was not the heir to a wealthy fortune nor did he speak French or German or Japanese and he definitely didn’t have a happy, loving family.

It didn’t take Virgil long to realize that Declan was coping in his own way. Coping with a dead mother and an alcoholic father. Coping with being one of the poorest kids in their preppy private school.

Virgil hadn’t meant to befriend the compulsive liar, but when he stumbled upon Declan hiding behind the school, upset and alone, how could he not? And when Declan hit the next kid that picked on Virgil, how could he not be grateful? Grateful that somebody, for once, had his back.

Sometimes, when the two were lounging around, strumming their guitars and trying to making something like a song, Virgil caught himself wishing that Declan was his soulmate. He always shook that thought away.

Virgil pushed open the door to the cafe, missing the cheery greeting from the barista. He spotted Declan at a table next to the windows, two drinks already in front of him.

Declan looked up as he approached. Half of his face was stained with a bright daffodil yellow soulmark, a very big contrast to the green of his eyes, but it matched very well with his hair, the same exact color as the mark. Declan was naturally brunette, but he’d been dying his hair the same outrageous yellow as long as Virgil had known him. Sometimes, he told people it was natural. It wasn’t his best lie.

“Hello, stranger,” Declan said.

Virgil sat down, leaning his guitar case against the window behind his seat. Declan pushed one of the to-go cups towards him and Virgil knew the smell of chamomile and honey immediately. He melted into his chair, taking a slow sip. “Thanks.”

“It was very difficult to get, you know?” Declan responded with a small smile. “You should be very grateful.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments before Declan cleared his throat and Virgil looked away from the window and back over to him. “You okay, V?”

“Yeah,” Virgil sighed. “I will be anyways.”

Declan almost looked hesitant to ask about it. Almost. “What happened?”

Virgil took another drink, wanting to answer and not wanting to answer at the same time. He exhaled slowly. “I, uh, I met one of my soulmates.”

Declan was a liar, sure, but Virgil also knew that Declan kept secrets better than anyone else. He learned about the light blue mark pretty early on in their friendship. It was a lot harder to hide than the dark blue one. Virgil had been shocked when Declan found the concept of having more than one soulmate interesting instead of repulsive. It only took Virgil a few more weeks to work up the courage to admit to the last one. Up until that point, he’d never told anyone.

“Well,” Virgil amended. “‘Met’ is a strong word. We kinda bumped into each other in the hall and then I ran away."

“Oh Virgil,” Declan said, looking much more sympathetic than usual. “You _didn’t_.”

"I did."

Now, he felt even more pathetic. Virgil groaned and pressed his face into his hands, jerking wildly to stop his cup from tipping over. Then repeating the action. It was a long couple of minutes before he spoke again. "I guess I'll just have to be sure to avoid him for the rest of my life."

"Does he go to school here?" Declan asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Virgil responded immediately before hanging his head. "At least, I think so. He was kinda dressed like a teacher. Or _worse_ , a nerd."

Declan laughed. "You always did have a thing for boys in glasses."

"Shut up," Virgil growled, ignoring the blush creeping up his cheeks. Despite his embarrassment, he could already tell he was feeling better.

Declan laughed even harder until tears appeared in his eyes. After a moment, Virgil joined him.

"Well," Declan said after a couple of minutes when their laughter had died down. "Despite what you want to do, you can't very well avoid him forever."

"I can try," Virgil retorted. "It's a pretty big campus after all. And I highly doubt we have the same majors."

"Oh yes, because we both know dozens of people that managed to avoid their soulmates after meeting," Declan said with a bit of a smirk.

"We also know oh so many people with more than one soulmate," Virgil snarked back before leaning back in his seat. "Maybe fate decided to give me more than one because it knew I'd fuck up with the first one. And probably the second one too."

"Wow, you sound so optimistic."

"When have I ever been optimistic?"

"Fair point."

Virgil sighed. "Besides, this is the one my parents don't know about," he said and Declan's expression turned sympathetic once more. "I can't very well show up with him on one weekend and go 'Hey, this is one of my soulmates and yes, my face is still red and my hand is still blue. What's for dinner?'. Bisabuela would try to exorcise me on the spot."

"To be fair, your great-grandma is a bit crazy."

"Not the point, Dee."

"Sorry for trying to add a bit of levity to the situation."

Virgil sighed again, louder this time. Loud enough, apparently, to catch the attention of the barista. Virgil flushed and pulled his hood over his head.

"Hey," Declan said. "How about we get out tonight? Missy's band is playing."

"On a Wednesday?" Virgil asked incredulously.

"Are you asking why she's playing on Wednesday or why we're going out on a Wednesday?"

"Both. And I did not agree to go out."

"Oh, c'mon, V, we're college students now. Live a little."

"I don't think I can deal with a crowd tonight."

"Yeah, because Missy never gets us backstage."

Virgil shook his head and let his head drop onto the table. Honestly, he just wanted to go to his dorm and go to sleep. But he still had five classes and he'd missed the first. He emailed— well, Papa emailed— all of his professors about his anxiety, how it sometimes got in the way of classes. And all of them had seemed to be cool with it, but sending someone a message online and going into a class to talk to the professor about it were two entirely different things.

Still, he needed to do it. His dads were paying for his education, after all, knowing full well that Virgil intended to put his diploma away and become a musician. The least he could do was attend class.

"Hey, after classes, could you go with me to talk to my professor?" he asked, looking up.

Declan bobbed his head once before pulling out his phone. His eyes widened a bit. "Shit, I gotta go."

"Sorry." Virgil said with a grimace. "Didn't mean to keep you this long."

"Not cool at all, in the slightest," Declan said with a roll of his eyes. He slid off of his seat and picked up his cup. "Text me when you need me, cool?"

"Thanks again," Virgil said, his words sincere. He wasn't sure what he'd do without Declan at this point.

Declan rolled his eyes again (it was a wonder he didn't pull a muscle) and left. Virgil took a few more minutes to finish his drink before heading to his next class, his anxiety all but abated.

* * *

It didn't last long.

Virgil decided that he had the absolute worst luck in the world when he walked into the lecture hall where his professor was supposed to be. Because there, fiddling with a miniature Rubik's cube, was his soulmate. Virgil reacted fast as his stomach dropped, trying to steer Declan back out of the door.  
But the boy, it seemed, noticed and when his eyes stopped on Virgil, Virgil couldn't move.

"What's wrong?" Declan muttered.

"That's him," Virgil hissed back out of the corner of his mouth. "Let's come back."

But the boy was already striding towards the two of them, his face set into a purposeful, thoughtful expression. And oh boy, he looked cute with his eyebrows furrowed.

"You," he said unceremoniously as he came to stop in front of a frozen Virgil and smirking Declan. The boy's eyes flickered over to Declan for a brief moment before he turned back to Virgil. "You are one of my soulmates."

Virgil couldn't do anything but nod dumbly. He wanted to tell him not to be so loud, to say "nope!" and walk away again. God, this was really too much for one day.

Declan's hand settled on Virgil's shoulder and he relaxed a bit, grounding himself to the room, to the here, to the now.

"I do not want a soulmate," the boy said bluntly and Virgil tried not to wince. "Let alone three, but there was no reason to walk away like-"

"Sorry," Virgil muttered, shifting awkwardly. God, he probably hated Virgil now.

"Like that," the boy continued. "Regardless, there is no point in avoiding each other. Perhaps we were paired because we would be mutually beneficial to each other."

He paused, likely waiting for a response. When Virgil didn't give him one, he quirked an eyebrow and continued. "So, as way of introduction, my name is Logan Sanders."

When he paused again, it took Virgil a moment to realize that the boy— Logan— was waiting for his reply. "Virgil," he managed to get out, his voice cracking pathetically. "Virgil Alvarado."

Logan glanced over at Declan and Virgil's best friend startled before offering Logan one of his most charming grins. "Declan Patrick, at your service."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Logan said. He opened his mouth to add something else when Virgil blurted out.

"I'm not really looking for a relationship!"

Logan's lips pursed before he nodded once, likely more to himself than to Virgil. "Of course, there is no reason for this to be a romantic endeavor," he said and Virgil could feel himself flushing. "In fact, that would be ideal as I must focus on my studies. So, would platonic soulmates be a more suitable arrangement?"

  
Virgil stared at the outstretched hand as if it would poison him. His gaze raised to Logan, one of his soulmates. He looked almost embarrassed, maybe a little off-put. Despite how well put together he appeared and the neutral look in his eyes, Virgil couldn't help but notice that he seemed nervous. And it was kinda cute and a little sweet.

After a moment, Virgil shook his hand. "Platonic soulmates," he agreed.

He didn't even glance at Declan because Declan always knew when Virgil was lying.


	6. patton blumenthal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton has a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: insomnia, references to anxiety and sleeping medication, arguments, shouting, implied aro-acephobia, and a whole lotta angst
> 
> Fair warning, this chapter doesn't end happy, but the next one will! Also, Roman's a bit of an accidental jerk in this chapter, but again, he'll get better in the next one.

When Patton met his second soulmate, he hadn’t known it. After all, you couldn’t touch someone through the computer screen.

Patton had one secret, one that he kept close to his chest, one that he hadn’t told  _ anyone _ , not even Roman. It was just… Too personal and maybe a little dark. Plus, if Roman knew, Patton knew he would likely make a big deal about it. Patton loved sharing experiences and achievements with Roman, but sometimes, it was nice to have something for himself

It started with poems in middle school, before he met Roman. Just little scraps of paper with words written on them, his feelings and thoughts. Back then, he read a lot, finding companionship in the written word. It was really the only way he managed to deal with the crippling loneliness, to keep smiling like Mom always said to do.

After Roman came into his life, the sad verses grew into romantic sonnets. Waxing poetic about the emerald sheen of Roman’s eyes, about how each freckle on his nose became a star in Patton’s galaxy. Those poems were stashed away somewhere in the back of Patton’s closet, where he hoped to forget about them. Patton read less, but when he did read, he curled up in Roman’s arms as Roman listened to musical soundtracks. And Patton’s life became like a romance novel a little bit more each time Roman twirled him around in the kitchen.

Patton stopped writing poems for awhile, but he never really stopped writing. 

He turned to journals at first, filled to the brim with stories about his life. About the first Fourth of July Roman spent with Patton, Mom, and Mallory; about the taste of slightly burned burgers in his mouth and how fireworks seemed that much more vibrant when he tangled his fingers with the fingers of a boy he loved. About the documentary he and Roman watched together that convinced them to go vegetarian. About the first time Patton successfully baked a souffle. About when he got his first job at the local Starbucks and how he always snuck Remy free drinks and Emile free pastries.

The first time Patton tried his hand at creative writing, it had been at the suggestion of his freshman English teacher. Maybe she noticed that Patton’s essays were always just a bit longer than they were supposed to be or that he finished his reading before anyone else. One day, when Patton stayed after school to help her put away the books (he rotated between helping his teachers after class, mostly to waste time until Roman got out of his theater practices), she offhandedly mentioned to him that he should try to make up a story.

Looking back, Patton wondered if she knew exactly what would happen.

There were still journals and sometimes poems, but soon Patton found himself drowning in his imagination, drowning in worlds that he created and knocked down, drowning in the characters born from his mind, in the stories he crafted. He wrote a lot of short love stories in that first year, but when he tried his hand at fantasy, it all clicked. 

He remembered Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, the hundreds of other books he’d picked up over the years. The books that got him through the darkest point in his life, that still pulled him from those moments when he felt as though he might break. This…  _ This _ was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

He never told Roman or Mom or Mallory because he didn’t want to embarrass himself and, to be honest, he didn’t think he was very  _ good _ at it. But Patton also knew he would never get better without outside help, without critiques.

So he turned to the internet and began posting his short stories online.

That was when  **STORMCLOUD** entered Patton’s world.

They started off as critique partners, sending snippets back and forth.  **STORMCLOUD** mostly wrote poetry, which Patton thought was great, especially since all of  **STORMCLOUD** ’s poems rhymed, something that Patton’s poems never seemed to do.  **STORMCLOUD** was bluntly honest about Patton’s writing, but also so achingly sweet and humble.

Over the next years,  **STORMCLOUD** became Storm and critique partners became friends. They moved past the website they met on to emailing and then eventually (because honestly, Patton trusted this internet stranger more than he trusted half of the people he knew in his hometown) texting. The first time Patton confided in Storm was not long after he and Roman had their talk about their other soulmates.

**_You awake?_ **

Patton glanced nervously from his phone to Roman’s bedroom clock. It was quickly approaching 2AM, but sleep seemed to be a distant goal in Patton’s racing mind. He was spending the night at the Picani-Carroll house while Mom visited her parents in the next state over. 

Mom had never really gotten along with her parents, who’d expected her to marry Mallory and live out the soulmate dream. They were, as some people called them, “soulmate purists”, believing that all soulmates were supposed to fall in love and get married. It was also the reason why Patton never went to visit with Mom. He refused to hide his soulmarks, which were more than unconventional, and Mom supported that decision wholeheartedly. However, she was not very fond of her parents degrading her son either. She rarely visited them, but last week, her mother broke her hip and Patton had been the one to encourage his mom to go.

But Patton didn’t like to be home alone, so he was there, curled up against his boyfriend’s warm form. Roman’s snores were quiet, a comfort in the otherwise silent house, his arm draped over Patton’s waist. The house was still too quiet though. 

Patton was used to his two dogs running around and the sounds of their chickens puttering about outside. Sometimes, if she couldn’t sleep, he’d hear Mom in the kitchen making some kind of baked goods for Patton and Roman’s dessert the next day. And if Mallory happened to be in town, he’d listen to the distant rumble of the TV, seeing as Mallory never fell asleep before 4AM. And very soon, Mom hoped to add a toddler into their chaotic mix, something Patton couldn’t wait for.

Patton’s phone buzzed and he jumped in surprise. He stilled as Roman mumbled something, burying his face deeper into Patton’s curls before relaxing. With a small exhale, Patton unlocked his phone, turning off the vibration. A small smile curled onto his face when he saw the response.

**Yeah. You okay?**

Patton knew that Storm was in a similar time zone as him, if not the same one, so he was a bit surprised that Storm was up this late. He made to reply with a simple “I’m good” before stopping himself.

Because, if Patton was being honest, that was kind of a lie.

**_I can’t sleep_ ** **.**

There. That was the truth, if not the whole truth.

**Didn’t take you for the insomniac type, Pat.**

Patton’s heart always soared a little bit when Storm called him Pat. Storm didn’t know his real name, of course, just like Patton didn’t know Storm’s. But Patton’s username had been  **Pattycakes** , so Storm tended to shorten it to “Pat” or, endearingly, “Patty”. Patton tended to be more fond of “Pat” though because the only other person that called him that was Roman.

**_I’m not… Usually._ **

Another partial truth. Patton found himself lying awake late at night more and more as of late. Mom was a bit of an insomniac, so perhaps he got it from her? He was sure that Roman had noticed him dozing off during class sometimes. Roman began demanding that they take naps together more often and Patton was never one to turn down cuddles. Roman’s presence seemed to help most of the time, but tonight appeared to be an exception.

**Well, I am.**

That explained why Storm was up so late. And then:

**What’s on your mind?**

Patton’s immediate instinct was to turn off his phone and pretend he fell asleep. But then what did he plan to do? Lay in bed until Roman's alarm went off and Patton pretended he'd just woken up early? That sounded torturous, especially the lying to Roman part. Because he'd already somehow accumulated so many lies.

**_The future_ ** **.**

Patton didn't want to dump too much on his faceless friend. That wouldn't have been fair. It was hardly like Storm signed up for the mess that was Patton in the first place.

**Like what?**

Patton didn't respond for several minutes. He was about to turn the phone off and go with his previous plan when another text appeared.

**I know you aren't asleep, Pat. It's okay. You can talk to me. After all, I've already dumped loads of stuff on you.**

That was true. Despite never meeting them, Patton knew that Storm had anxiety, he knew that Storm had two dads and a little sister, who they loved but didn't really connect with. He knew that Storm's best friend was a bit of an oddball and that Storm wrote songs and that, like Patton, they had three soulmates. But, unlike Patton, they hid that part away from the world. He didn’t know Storm’s name or even what their face looked like, but sometimes, Patton (guiltily) felt as close to them as he did to Roman.

Patton took a deep breath and typed out the thing that had been plaguing him for most of the night.

**_I don’t want to go to college._ **

**Okay** . **And?**

**_And everyone expects me to go, even Prince. I mean, he hasn’t said it so directly, but he keeps talking about us going to the same school in a city and all the great things we’ll do there. And I love watching him get excited about it, but I don’t think I want that. I don’t think I want to go._ **

**Is it the idea of moving to a big city that you’re afraid of?**

**_No! No, I really want to leave this tiny town. I just don’t want to go to school, I guess. I kinda just want-_ **

What did Patton want? He’d been thinking so much about what he  _ didn’t _ want to do that he hadn’t even thought of what he  _ wanted _ to do. 

**_I kinda just want to figure myself out. But I don’t want to disappoint anyone, especially not my mom. She’s done so much for me and I really just want to make her proud._ **

**I get that. I’m mostly just going because my dads want me to. I’m probably gonna fuck off to be a rockstar after I graduate though.**

Patton snorted before remembering where he was. He froze, biting down hard on his lip. Beside him, Roman groaned and moved and Patton quickly shoved his phone under his pillow. He laid still for a tense couple of seconds before a tired “Patton?” broke the silence.

“Yeah,” Patton said sheepishly before he rolled over to face his soulmate.

“What’re you-” Roman paused to yawn and rub at his eyes. “What  _ time _ is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Patton reached up to run his hands through Roman’s hair. “Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?”

Roman hummed sleepily, pulling Patton closer to him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Love you,” the ginger muttered.

Patton smiled, “I love you too.”

* * *

The next morning, when Patton pretended to wake up, a single text was on his phone.

**Anyways, you should do what you want to do. Your happiness is the most important thing. You deserve to be happy.**

Some of the weight lifted from Patton’s chest and he smiled.

* * *

The first time Roman and Patton had an actual argument was a few months later, after a blissful summer break had come and gone. About three weeks into school, Roman decided that they needed to pick a university to go to. One that had a theater program and a-

“What  _ do  _ you want to do, Patton?”

Ah yes, the dreaded question. The one that the counselor seemed to ask him everytime Patton popped into his office. Patton tried to keep his focus on his math homework. The two boys were, once again, at Roman’s house, studying in the living room while Emile and Remy were out on a date. 

They couldn’t really study at Patton’s anymore, ever since Ramsay and Easter, Patton’s new siblings joined the family. Mom hadn’t expected to adopt twin toddlers, but when the moment arose, she couldn’t say no. The two were a bit of a hurricane, but Patton couldn’t love them more.

“Pat?” Roman said as he sat down. He’d been pacing back and forth, going on a long-winded discussion about everything he wanted in a college.

“Yeah?” Patton pretended to scribble down an equation, but he was really just writing random numbers.

“Have you thought about a major?”

Patton cringed, his content smile faltering for a moment. He was startled when a finger slipped under his chin and his head was raised to look up at Roman. His boyfriend watched him with concerned blue-green eyes. “Did you sleep last night?” he asked softly and Patton’s heart clenched. How could he tell Roman that he didn’t want to go to college when he looked at him like that? So concerned and genuine and loving.

“I got a couple of hours,” Patton replied quietly. Over the summer, his insomniatic tendencies became a lot more apparent with Roman staying up later. 

And of course, there was the one little scare where Roman found Patton passed out at the bottom of the stairs. Luckily, Patton had made it to the bottom before his exhaustion hit him, but Roman refused to let him out of his sight for most of the summer after that.

Eventually, the Picani-Carrolls, Roman, Mom, and Mallory all sat him down to stage an intervention. He went to the doctor and got some sleeping medication, but he still rarely used it.

“Do you need a nap?” Roman asked.

Patton shook his head and looked down at his book again. “If I go to sleep now, I won’t sleep at all tonight.”

“Okay,” Roman seemed to be placated by that answer. “So have you decided a major?”

Patton sighed quietly. He hoped Roman would move past that topic. He wanted to just ignore the question and hope that it would go away completely, but he could feel Roman’s eyes boring into him. He turned on his warmest smile and looked up at his boyfriend. “Not yet.”

“Oh,” Roman said softly before shrugging. “That’s okay! Lots of people don’t pick a major until they’re in college anyways.”

He was being so sweet, but something in Patton twitched and turned. He knew, he  _ knew _ , that communication was key to any relationship, even a relationship between soulmates. And Roman was in such a good mood right now, so maybe now would be the best time to tell him the truth. Tell him that he threw his college pamphlets away and that when they filled out the applications, Patton typed in information about his characters before closing the tab.

_ You deserve to be happy _ , he reminded himself of Storm’s words.

“Roman,” he said slowly, pulling Roman’s attention away from the economics book he was flicking through.

“Yes, love?”

Patton intended to put it delicately, maybe provide some reasoning and assure Roman that he would move to whatever city Roman wanted to attend college in. That was the plan. But all that came out was “I don’t want to go to college.”

Roman blinked at Patton a couple of times before cracking a smile and adding a small laugh. “That’s really funny, Pat,” he said.

Patton could feel his hands clenching under the table, the smile on his own face wobbling. He’d expected any number of emotions, but straight up denial hadn’t been one of them.

“I’m not kidding,” he muttered quietly.

Roman’s laughter paused and fell away. When Patton looked up, Roman was watching him with confusion. They stared at each other for several seconds and Patton could feel the tears burning behind his eyes. “Of course you want to go to college,” Roman said.

“N-no,” Patton’s hands tightened into little fists. “I really don’t.”

Roman tried a small smile, but Patton could tell it was forced from the tension in his jaw. “Are you stressed about it? Because I know you’re going to do fine. You’re a great student, Patton.”

“I’m…” Patton’s voice caught and he closed his mouth. If he cried now, they’d never have this discussion. “I’m not stressed. I just don’t want to go.”

Now Roman’s smile was falling, dropping quickly into a befuddled frown. “But we’ve already filled out so many applications. We- We’ve been talking about this since freshman year!”

Patton involuntarily flinched back when Roman’s volume raised. Roman was loud, yes, and Patton was loud too, but they’d never shouted at one another before. And Patton did not like it. 

“ _ You’ve _ been talking about it, Ro, not me,” he said in a quiet voice that bordered on a whisper.

“What are you talking about?!” Roman exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

Patton stood too as he held his hands up in a placating way. “Please, stop shouting.”

“No! You’re telling me that all of the plans we made were for  _ nothing _ ? That you were just going along with it to what? Mess with me?” Roman took a breath and crossed his arms. Patton’s heart shattered when he saw the tears in Roman’s eyes. “You’re a real asshole, Patton.”

Something inside of Patton snapped. His frown dropped, his hands dropped, and before he knew what he was saying, the words were flying out of his mouth, calm and quiet, but oh so furious. “ _ I’m _ the asshole?” he took a step towards Roman and Roman, surprised, took a step back. “You’re the one that never asked for my fucking opinion on any of this! You have all these grandiose fanciful ideas about what  _ our _ future is going to be like and you haven’t even bothered to ask me what  _ I  _ want.”

Roman’s eyes widened as he seemed to realize something. “Pat…”

“No!” Patton’s voice didn’t raise in volume, but Roman’s mouth immediately snapped shut. “No, you always get to talk. We’ve been together for over five years and you don’t even know what I want to do with my life! It’s always about  _ you _ , Roman. I missed the chance to see my childhood friend because  _ you _ wanted to go to the city and see a concert. I stayed home from the Junior school trip because  _ you _ got sick and I took care of you. What happened the last time I got sick?”

Roman looked nervous now, rubbing his hands together and he looked torn between approaching Patton and running away. “I-”

Patton broke and the tears started rolling down his face faster than he could wipe them away. He spoke around the lump in his throat. “You left to go camping with your family. I still have the little Get Well card you left me, tucked away in our memory box.”

“You have a memory box for us?” Roman asked, a little choked.

“Of course I fucking do!”

Patton’s scream reverberated off the walls, rattling around in his chest. His stomach dropped and he felt like he was going to be sick. “I love you,” Patton said, sobbing around his words. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes. And I know you love me, but I need a break.”

“No,” Roman went into full-blown panic, banging his leg on the side of his coffee table as he tried to stumble over to Patton. “No, no, Patton.”

Roman reached for Patton’s face, but Patton took a step back and shook his head. A small helpless sound escape Roman and Patton felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. “I’m sorry, Roman,” he said before he quickly gathered his stuff into his bag. He clapped a hand over his mouth to try to stop crying. “I’m really sorry.”

“ _ Patton, please _ ,” Roman said as he stepped in front of him to block the exit. Patton looked up and almost lost all resolve when he saw the tears streaming down his soulmate’s face. “Please, I can’t-”

“No,” Patton held out his hands. “I need space and you need to respect that. Please move.”

To his surprise, Roman stepped aside. Patton hastened to move past him and, against his better judgement, glanced back. Roman’s knees hit the floor with a  _ thunk _ as he brought his hands up to his mouth and doubled over.

Patton bit down on his tongue, forced himself to turn back around, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who relates to Patton a lot, I know for a fact that people take advantage of your go-with-the-flow, make other's happy attitude. And I also know that a lot of people do it completely on accident. If I'm being honest, a lot of this chapter is taken from personal experience. Unfortunately for me, or perhaps fortunately, my partner did not love me like Roman loves Patton.
> 
> I also feel it's important to stress that even soulmates take work. Nothing is just going to click into place perfectly. Roman and Patton are both emotionally-driven characters, so I do find it unlikely that they'd never clash.
> 
> Again, I promise things will get better in the next chapter as Roman does some soul-searching.


	7. roman carroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman tries to fix a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in, this one's long. Also, Walter Galip shows up.
> 
> TW: Aftermath of a breakup, strong language, mentions of marijuana, implied running away

Roman Charles Carroll was a fucking idiot.

He hadn’t really realized just how much he fucked up until he went to the Blumenthal house. He knocked on the door, flowers in his hand, an apology on his tongue. When Mrs. Blumenthal answered the door with little Ramsay on her hip, her smile fell just barely.

“Wo-wo,” Ramsay said, making grabby hands. Roman smiled at the toddler, but he was quickly set down and ushered back into the house.

“Patton told me not to let you in,” Mrs. Blumenthal said.

“What?”

The words hadn’t quite processed in Roman’s mind. When they did, he felt the tears building in his eyes again. “Can I please just see him?” he asked, starting to feel a little desperate. He tried to lean around her to see if Patton was in view of the front door, but Mrs. Blumenthal just moved in front of his line of vision.

“You should go,” she said, her voice sounding tight.

She was about to close the door when Roman exclaimed, “Wait!”

Mrs. Blumenthal paused, just for the barest second. 

“Is he  _ okay _ at least?” Roman asked in a quiet voice. When she didn’t answer, Roman felt his lungs constricting. “Please, Mrs. Blumenthal.”

After a long moment, one that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, though every moment felt like an eternity without Patton by his side, she shook her head. “No,” she admitted quietly. “I don’t know what happened, but he’s not eating and he won’t leave his bed.”

Roman wondered if this is what it felt like to have someone rip your heart out. “I’m-” he started, but Mrs. Blumenthal shook her head.

“Go home, Roman,” she said softly. “You look like you haven’t slept in awhile.”

Has Patton? Roman knew he wanted to ask that, but Mrs. Blumenthal just closed the door with an apologetic look. Roman wasn’t sure how long he lingered, but by the time he made the walk back to his car, the sun had changed positions in the sky. He paused briefly to throw the bouquet in the trash, blinking back his tears.

When he got back home, he skirted around Emile in the kitchen and raced up the stairs to his room. His eyes immediately landed on the photo of him and Patton from their summer trip to Disneyland. He grabbed the picture, a shout rising in his throat as he made to throw it. His anger dropped at the last second, replaced with something he could only identify as grief. He clutched the photo to his chest as he sank to the ground.

The tears came then, and it hurt. God, it hurt so, so much. He heard a knock on his door, some shuffling around, but then they were gone. Eventually, Roman got off of the floor and crawled into his bed. He reached for the pillow Patton always used, burying his face in it. He didn’t move for the rest of the weekend.

* * *

When Roman saw Patton again, he thought his heart might leap out of his chest. It was ridiculous. He really should’ve known that he would see Patton at school. They had four classes together for Disney’s sake.

But when Roman got close enough to actually see him, he almost wanted to run in the opposite direction. There were bags underneath Patton’s eyes and they were ringed with red. He kept his back hunched and worse of all, Patton wasn’t even attempting to smile.

Patton raised his gaze slightly, his eyes meeting Roman’s from across the hall. Roman started to raise his hand into a wave when the blonde boy turned on his heel and walked back the way he’d come. Roman noticed a few other students looking at him, so he cleared his throat and hurried to class, not even bothering to stop by his locker.

Somehow, Patton managed to switch seats with someone in every class to get as far away from Roman as possible. His soulmate wouldn’t even so much as glance in his direction. Instead, he watched the teacher or turned to his phone, which seemed to be buzzing nonstop. Occasionally, a weak smile would flash across his face. With each passing hour, Roman’s heart broke a little bit more.

He looked for Patton at lunch, but someone told Roman that they saw him leaving campus. When Roman sat with his drama friends, they were all a bit startled.

“Roman?” Valerie prompted when the bell rang and everyone else had left.

Valerie had been the first person Roman befriended (after Patton, of course). For the most part, the two of them had been getting the leads in the school musicals since seventh grade. Surprisingly, there’d been no rivalry between them, friendly or otherwise, and it was more or less unanimously decided by pretty much everyone in the drama club that the two of them were the best singers and actors. Although, if Roman was honest, that wasn’t much of an achievement.

He looked up from his phone absentmindedly. He’d been scrolling through pictures of himself and Patton and maybe he was pathetically hoping that Patton would call.

“Are you okay?” Valerie questioned, her voice quiet.

Roman shook his head. “Patton and I-” he dropped his head into his hands, partially out of exhaustion and partially because tears were filling his eyes again. “We got into a pretty big fight.”

“Oh Roman,” Valerie wrapped an arm around him in a side hug. She rested her head on his shoulder. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes and Roman was very aware that they should’ve been headed to Calculus, but he didn’t really have the energy to move and Valerie didn’t seem too concerned.

Roman spoke before his mind caught up with his mouth. “Do you think I’m a bad person, Val?”

Valerie sat up suddenly, looking at him. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I’m selfish and all I care about is myself and my dreams- And I can’t see when someone I love is hurting. And-”

“Whoa,” Valerie held up her hands. “Back up, buddy.”

He turned his gaze to his hands in his lap, exhaling shakily. “Pat- Patton told me he doesn’t want to go to college.”

She blinked once, twice. “You didn’t know that?”

Roman whirled around to look at her and she bounced back a bit. “You  _ knew _ ?”

“I- I thought it was pretty obvious, Roman,” she said. “He always looked uncomfortable when we talked about it. And he kept turning down our invitations to go to out-of-town college fairs. You really didn’t notice?”

“God,” Roman groaned and rubbed at his face. “I am so fucking  _ dense _ .”

“I have to agree in this case.”

“I kept making all of these plans and I didn’t even think to ask about what he wanted. I thought- I thought- I  _ assumed _ that all of our goals were the same, that we wanted the same things. But I was just dragging him along. He probably hates me now!”

Valerie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I sincerely doubt that Patton would ever hate you.”

“But-”

She shook her head before her face softened. “You’re a good guy, Roman, with a good heart. You just have a tendency to get lost in yourself. It’s something to work on, but we all have things we have to work on, sweetie,” she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Do you feel bad about what you did?”

Roman nodded miserably before a shuddering sob racked his body. “But Patton won’t let me apologize, Val. I can’t even get close enough to talk to him.”

“Sometimes,” she said as she got up and slung her bag over her shoulder. “The best apologies are done with actions, not words.”

* * *

So actions it was. If Patton wouldn’t talk to him, then Roman was still going to be the best damn boyfriend the world had ever seen.

First, he skipped theater practice to go over to the Blumenthal house. He knew that Patton would be at work until eight, but Roman immediately set about weeding his garden. Patton kept his own little garden separate from his mother’s and Roman could tell that it had, understandably, been neglected over the past couple of days. At one point, Mrs. Blumenthal came out and gave him a cup of lemonade without a word.

Roman left before Patton could get home.

The next day, Patton was looking at his phone even more, his smile a little more apparent. Roman wanted to know what he was looking at? Was he talking to someone? He tried to ignore the jealousy pooling in his stomach.

Roman wondered if he’d even noticed the garden.

He shrugged it off and tried a different approach. He had flowers delivered to the school for Patton. Patton’s face when he saw the bouquet was a memory that Roman wanted to save in his mind. But then Patton’s face fell and he excused himself from class, biting down hard on his lip, his phone already out of his pocket.

Roman sunk in his chair as everyone turned to stare at him.

For his next idea, Roman had to get the only guitarist in school on board. Unfortunately, that happened to be Walter Galip, who managed to be the first and only kid in their school to get held back. For the most part, the town’s school just held out diplomas to get people out of the doors. But, as it turns out, if you skip every single class your senior year, you’re unlikely to graduate.

Ever since that first day, Walter and his friends had managed to avoid Roman and Patton. His friends all graduated though, leaving Walter to be lonely, spending his afternoons after school playing guitar in the abandoned school library.

He didn’t even so much as look up when Roman entered. “You and Blumenthal broke up, right?” he asked, still strumming away.

“What?” Roman tried not to look so offended. “Who told you that?”

Walter raised his gaze, squinting at Roman. He was definitely a little bit stoned, which wasn’t surprising. “Patton.”

Patton? Patton talked to  _ Walter _ ? He must’ve looked completely incredulous because Walter sighed and rolled his eyes.

“He told me that you were going to ask me to play the accompaniment for a Disney song so you could serenade him in front of the entire school.”

Roman stared at Walter, completely slackjawed because yes, that was exactly what he planned to do. And then his heart swelled and broke simultaneously because he realized just how  _ well _ Patton knew him.

After a moment, he took a deep breath and asked, “Will you do it?”

Walter raised an eyebrow at Roman before shaking his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Really?” Walter looked at Roman like he was the biggest idiot in the world. And honestly, Roman was starting to wonder if he  _ was _ . “Dude, it’s not going to work. A big, dramatic Disney serenade is what  _ you _ would want him to do.”

And then it hit Roman. Walter was right. He’d weeded the garden because sometimes Patton cleaned his room while he was away. He’d bought the bouquet because that was what Patton did when  _ he  _ was sad. And the Disney serenade… Well, if Patton had messed up this badly, he probably would’ve done it already.

Patton was right. Roman was so wrapped up in himself that he couldn’t even separate his own needs and wants from Patton’s.

“You look like you might need some alone time, so I’m gonna bounce,” Walter left and the library was silent once again.

Roman sat there until the librarian came and told him she was closing up. And then, he went and sat in his car until the sun dipped below the horizon. An idea was forming in his mind and- Bingo! He knew what he needed to do.

His phone rang.

Roman answered without looking at the caller ID, still formulating his plan.

“Roman?”

Roman blinked slowly. “Mallory?”

“Oh thank god,” she exhaled and said something away from the phone. “Roman, is Patton with you?”

Roman’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t speak for several moments and when he did, he felt as though he was choking on tar. “No. Why? What happened?”

He heard Mallory curse audibly over the phone as his heart rate started to pick up. By the time she spoke, Roman was already peeling out of the school’s parking lot and headed towards the Blumenthal house. “He didn’t show up for work and he’s not answering his phone and his suitcase is missing and- Fuck. Anika, Anika, sit down!”

“Patton is  _ missing _ ?” Roman hissed into the phone.

Where could he be going? Did he even know anyone outside of town? Well, he knew Mallory, but clearly she was in town. “Yeah,” Mallory said after a moment. “We already called the sheriff. Do you have any idea where he could be?”

“No, I-”

And then it hit Roman. He hung up and turned the car around.

* * *

One of the first things Roman learned about Patton was that he had a  _ lot  _ of hiding spaces. Places he would go to cry, where no one else could see. It’d broken Roman’s heart to learn this and he was more than a little indignant when Patton refused to tell him where they were.

So, one day, when Patton seemed to be having a particularly bad day, Roman followed him. 

The overlook was pretty hidden, unnamed and unmapped. It was about an hour’s walk away from town, most of it uphill, but Patton hadn’t seemed to care about the distance. And now he had a car, so he probably cared about it even less.

The view was stunning and below, the town appeared to be nothing more than a small nuisance among the forest that surrounded most of it.

At night, Roman thought, it looked even more stunning, the lights a beacon in the distance. Beautiful and small and aglow, like Patton.

He parked his car a little way down so he wouldn’t startle Patton. Because, as Roman noticed the first time, only a rickety wooden fence separated the overlook from the fifty foot drop below.

Patton stood a little ways away from the fence, the headlights of his car illuminating his baby blue jumped and blonde curls. For a moment, Roman could’ve sworn he looked like an angel. Patton was also occasionally crouching down to reach into the suitcase at his feet. As Roman got closer, he noticed that he was grabbing pieces of paper and tearing them up.

“What are those?” Roman asked quietly, knowing he’d be heard in the silence around them.

Patton tensed and turned around slowly. He quite literally looked like a deer in the headlights. Roman realized he was crying.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice shaky. He clutched half a piece of paper in each hand. “How did you know I was here?”

“I followed you here in eighth grade,” Roman tried for a small smile. “It’s a good thing you’re not a hunted animal because you have no sense of danger whatsoever.”

“Why are you here?” Patton repeated.

“Everyone’s worried about you. Mallory called me. I- I needed to know you were okay.”

Patton’s frown deepened as he tugged his teeth between his lips. “Well, now that you know I’m safe, you can go, right?”

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“There’s no reception out here. It’s,” he turned away, ripping the paper again and again until it was in little pieces. “It’s one of the reasons I like it up here.”

Roman watched as he crouched down and grabbed another piece of paper, tearing it again. His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped closer. When Patton stiffened again, he stopped.

“What are you tearing up?” Roman asked.

“Paper.”

Roman huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, I can see that, Captain Literal. But why?”

Patton seemed to hesitate before he reached for another one. This close, Roman could see that the suitcase still appeared to be completely full. Patton hadn’t been at work. How long had he been up here?

“They’re poems,” he said after a moment. And then, “And journal entries. And stories.”

Roman blinked in confusion, tilting his head a little. “Why do you have all of those?”

Patton let out a short laugh that sounded closer to a cough… Or maybe a sob. “I wrote them.”

“You…” Roman watched as Patton took another page and ripped it in half. And then into shreds. And then reached for another one.

He was tearing up things he’d  _ created _ , Roman realized with a start and before he could stop, he broke out into a sprint. He grabbed the suitcase and slammed it shut. He zipped it closed in a smooth motion. “Roman!” Patton squeaked. 

Roman looked up and snatched the page in Patton’s hand away. He lifted it to read by the headlights.

“Don’t read it!” Patton exclaimed, moving to take it from him. 

But Roman moved out of his way with both the suitcase and the paper in his hands. He jumped up before Patton could do anything and bolted to the car, throwing the suitcase in. He slid into the driver’s seat before locking the door.

With a smirk of victory, he noticed that, like always, Patton had left his keys in the ignition. Patton knocked on the door, calling to him. “Don’t read it!” he shouted. “Roman, please!”

Roman turned on the car light. Patton’s handwriting was a small and neat and precise as always, though some parts were crossed out here and there. It took Roman’s eyes a moment to adjust.

* * *

_ The Higher Palace always bustled with a unique kind of energy, one that Swanhilde had yet to see replicated elsewhere. It buzzed, fizzled, with a story unlike any other building in Aislin. Even the Academy had been rebuilt at one point or another. The Palace was never rebuilt, only updated. _

_ It was hard to see the Higher Palace for what it truly was underneath its facade of wealth.  _

_ It was a crypt of history. The opulence of pristine marble floors and tall glass windows lived alongside musty corridors hidden behind refurbished walls, their rotted doors leading to rooms that echoed the passage of time. Some doors led to nowhere, a tiny room with a single window or another crumbling wall. Others gave way to underground passageways, winding stairs and broken ladders concealing wine cellars and forgotten dungeons. _

_ Unreachable gardens bloomed behind stained glass windows, overgrown with choking weeds and poisonous blossoms. Some held greenhouses and gazebos, hedge mazes and hovels built into the hills. A single unused cottage rested by the edge of the First Mountain, visible from the mountainside, but fortified beneath a nest of rose vines too thick for any single lori to wade through. _

* * *

It was… Really good. Roman glanced at Patton, who was still banging on the window, his expression growing more desperate. Roman turned and opened the suitcase. Patton’s banging turned more frantic.

Roman plucked out the first poem he saw.

* * *

_ Who am I? _

_ In congruence to the world, _

_ To the eyes of the people around me, _

_ To the eyes of the strangers around me, _

_ To the eyes of the gods surrounding me, _

_ Who am I? _

_ What do I breathe? _

_ What do I see? _

_ What do I think? _

_ Reflected in glass, _

_ I see myself, but not myself. _

_ A disconnect between me and me. _

_ The thoughts are there, _

_ But the thoughts are gone. _

_ The words are spoken, _

_ But the words are muted. _

_ The pain is here, _

_ But the pain is fake. _

_ I am fake. _

_ All I am is fake. _

_ I am fake. _

_ Sleep through the night, _

_ But don't sleep at all. _

_ Dream a little _

_ Or dream too much. _

_ Wake too early. _

_ Wake too late. _

_ Lost in this limbo _

_ This purgatory _

_ This in between. _

_ This disconnect. _

_ Who am I? _

_ In this social construct of time— _

_ But is time a social construct _

_ Or is society a construct of time— _

_ Who am I? _

_ Do I exist in the minds of others when I am gone _

_ Do I exist outside of the realm of myself? _

_ Do I exist in the words I cannot hear, _

_ The words I wish to hear, _

_ The words I want to hear. _

_ I hear words. _

_ Words of love, of hatred, of mutual neutrality, _

_ But do the words exist _

_ Or do I create them? _

_ Am I myself? _

_ Or am I who they want? _

_ A different person for every person _

_ A different smile for every laugh. _

_ A different world for every drop of rain _

_ Every drop of rain that slips off of my skin _

_ Are they me? _

_ I am a drop of rain. _

_ In the endless void of space, I am less than a raindrop. _

_ Every molecule of me _

_ Shifting, changing, unique _

_ Is nothing. _

_ I am nothing. _

* * *

Roman dug through the suitcase, pulling writing after writing out. A tiny little smile crossed his face when he found a particularly bad love poem. And he outright laughed when he read some of the journal entries about him. He must’ve sat there for awhile because Patton eventually gave up, moving to sit in front of the car and stare out over the town.

Sitting there, in that little car with years and years of writing, Roman learned more about Patton than he’d ever known. It startled him how gut-wrenchingly sad some of the work was or how Patton portrayed every emotion so viscerally that Roman could physically  _ feel _ it. And with each word, each description and metaphor and story, Roman fell even deeper into love with Patton.

Eventually, Roman got out, taking the keys with him and locking the door. He wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Hey,” he said.

Patton scrambled to his feet. Roman was startled to see absolute rage in expression. Patton stomped towards him before shoving him harshly. He caught Roman off guard and he stumbled back a step.

“Those were  _ private _ , Roman!”

Roman held his hands up and Patton didn’t move. Instead, he hung his head and ruffled his curls. Roman wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him senseless and tell him how brilliant and wonderful and perfect he was. And that he was sorry, sorry, sorry for forgetting that. And that he was so, so, so sorry that he didn’t realize what he had. What he lost.

“They’re really good,” Roman said honestly, earnestly. He’d never been much of a writer, but  _ Patton _ \- Patton created words. “Even the love poems.”

Roman didn’t miss the flush that crossed Patton’s face as he buried his face in his hands. After a moment, he said quietly. “Why did you read them?”

“Why have you never shown me them?”

Patton shuffled, bringing his arms around to hug himself. He breathed out softly. “My writings are little pieces of my soul. I don’t- I don’t just  _ give _ them away.”

“I’m your  _ soul _ mate, Patton. Or one of them, at least.”

“That’s why-” Patton started before he dropped his gaze to his shoes.

“That’s why what?” Roman tilted his head and took a step closer. Patton didn’t pull away. “Why you’re up here, tearing them to pieces?”

“I-” Patton’s voice was small. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us,” Patton said quickly before shaking his head. “Me. Our other soulmates. The future!”

He let out a small frustrated shout before stomping back over to the fence and sitting down in front of it. Roman nearly had a heart attack when he let his legs dangle off the ledge. Cautiously, as if approaching a spooked animal, he went to go sit next to him. Well, maybe not  _ right _ next to him. He reached for Patton’s hand, nearly singing when he didn’t pull away.

“You  _ need  _ to talk to me, Patton. Apparently, I’m really bad at noticing when people feel like shit. I can’t read your mind like… What was her name?”

Patton laughed slightly and it was better than any Disney song Roman had ever heard. “Ross,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, the redhead named Ro. Sounds familiar, huh?”

Patton looked over at him, smiling softly. “She’s also reckless and has a tendency to punch people in the face.”

Roman grinned. “Yup! Sounds just like someone I know.”

They lulled back into silence, holding hands and staring down at the town. “Why are you up here, Pat?” Roman tried again.

Patton’s shoulders slumped. He looked at Roman for a moment before turning his attention to their interlaced hands. “I thought that if I threw all of it away, I wouldn’t want it anymore,” he said. “And maybe, if I didn’t want to be a writer anymore, I could give up my dreams for yours.”

Roman felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. He wheezed in a sharp breath, raising his gaze from their hands to find Patton staring at him. He was smiling, but it was a sad, resigned smile. 

Patton let out a shuddering sigh and tears filled his eyes again. “I’d give up anything to make you happy, Roman. You and-” he shook his head. “And the other soulmates. Even if it means my own happiness. I  _ hate  _ that I hurt you. And I can’t- I’ll do what you want. We can go to college together. I’ll pick up some productive major and I’ll-”

Roman leaned forward and kissed Patton, soft and slow. It was a very wet kiss, seeing as they were both crying. But it was one of the best kisses Roman had ever had. When he pulled away, Patton watched him expectantly, his eyes flickering between both of Roman’s.

Roman played with their fingers as his free hand brushed back Patton’s curls. “I don’t want you to give up anything for me, Pat. I just you to be happy, even if that’s not with me,” he said and it hurt to say it, but it was true. “I love you. I love your laugh and your little button nose and how much you care about even the worms in your garden. And I love that you write and you want to be a writer. I love everything about you, even your flaws. Because they make you,  _ you _ . 

“And I was wrong to just assume that you wanted all of the same things as me. And I’m sorry I’m an oblivious idiot that doesn’t notice those kinds of things. And I’m sorry that I’m selfish and that I don’t take care of you like I should. That I didn’t love you like you deserve to be loved. But I want to try to be better, do better.”

“It’s my fault,” Patton started. “I didn’t tell you what was wrong. I should’ve said something before it boiled over.”

Roman kissed Patton’s nose. “We can work on communication,” Roman said. “We’ve got all of the time in the world.”

Then he realized what he’d said and he added a whispered. “If you want it.”

Patton cracked a small smile, which quickly grew into a full grin. He flung his arms around Roman before kissing him. This one was more heated than the last and Roman realized just how much he’d missed this. Missed them. Missed  _ Patton _ .

Roman noticed that Patton was shivering and pulled back, just enough to lean their foreheads together. “We should probably go back,” Roman whispered.

“Yeah,” Patton nodded.

Roman gave him a conspiratorial smile and Patton returned it. “Wanna make out in your car first?” Roman asked.

Patton bobbed his head and Roman smirked. “I’m gonna need verbal consent, Pat.”

“Yes!” Patton said, sounding a little exasperated. 

They showed up at the Blumenthal house a little after midnight with mussed up hair, flushed faces, and wide grins, hand in hand. Their reconciliation was almost enough to get them off the hook.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fictional writing is from my original novel: Children of Neviah. Feel free to check out stuff about it on my Tumblr.
> 
> The poem is a slightly altered poem I wrote called 'Who Am I'.
> 
> Also, probably shouldn't have to say this, but I will anyways: Please don't read your friends'/SO's writing or look at their art without their permission. This is a fictional story, but jeezy creezy, that's a huge invasion of privacy.
> 
> Next chapter probably won't be until later this week, but it's Logan's! Summary: Logan finds himself in a bit of trouble.


	8. logan sanders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has a little problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: strong language, implied/referenced polyamphobia, throwing up, well-meaning but terrible parenting

Logan was quite pleased to find that he was, in fact, correct. Despite their less than conventional meeting, Virgil and Logan complimented each other very well and Logan was surprised to find that he wanted to spend more time with his platonic soulmate. 

Originally, the two made a decision to meet up for one hour every week. Nothing more. Just enough time that perhaps their souls would find a balance. They still bumped into one another in the halls and sometimes, Logan would spot Virgil in Professor Carlisle's lecture hall after hours. Logan decided to ask him about it during their weekly session.

"Why do you spend time in Carlisle's hall after hours?"

There, blunt, concise, and to the point. Virgil looked up from the music sheets in front of him and quirked an eyebrow. Logan learned pretty early on that Virgil was quite serious about his music. "Why do you ask?"

Logan had not been expecting a question in answer to his question. He cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. "I just see you in there quite often. Sometimes, Patrick is with you. Sometimes not."

Virgil smirked at Logan. "Don't call Declan Patrick to his face, kay, L?"

Logan blinked at the unfamiliar nickname. It didn't make very much sense. Logan was already a short name. Sometimes, Thomas called him "Lo" and most of his family called him "Loganberry", but just the first letter? Ridiculous. He hated it. Completely. Hated it. But it still made his cheeks feel a little warmer.

"Noted," he said. "But you have not answered my question."

Virgil sighed and sat back in his chair. Around them, the cafe buzzed with quiet activity. It appeared to be a popular study spot for many of the students in the school. Logan realized that he had also started to come here to study when the silence of his dorm became a bit too much.

Logan had grown up in a bustling house. Aside from Nana and Thomas, the house was a center for general Sanders activity. Cousins, aunts, and uncles came and went. Very few dinners were spent with just the three of them.

Logan had always been a solitary introvert, but he had also always been surrounded by family. Before, he prized his alone time, but now he was simply  _ lonely _ .

"Carlisle's a family friend," he said. "He's helping me with math as a favor to my Papa. It's a bit of a pain "

"Oh." Logan could've left it at that, his question answered. But they still had thirty minutes of their session together and he hated to spend the time in silence. It would be a waste of a perfectly good social interaction. "Does your family live in the city?"

"Nah," Virgil responded. Logan watched as he erased something on his sheet music and added something else. "My dads live up in Montgomery. It's about two hours outta town."

"Do you see them often?"

"I go up there every other weekend."

That explained why he turned down Logan's invitations to move their sessions to Saturday or Sunday. As of right now, they were meeting every Tuesday at four. It was quite a good arrangement. They got their time in together and then Virgil left to go have dinner with his friends.

Logan felt a pang in his chest. He didn't have friends to spend dinner with. He'd never been very popular, but at least he always had Thomas and, by some extension, Thomas's friends.

"So," Logan tried a different approach. This was their third time meeting and he still felt as though he knew much too little about his platonic soulmate. "What's your major?"

He expected Virgil to say music or some variation of arts, so he was more than a little surprised when he said. "Business."

The surprise must've shown on Logan's face because Virgil laughed shortly and scratched his face, right next to his red soulmark. "Gotta have some kind of plan to fall back on, right?"

"That," Logan momentarily found himself at a loss for words. "That is quite responsible of you, Virgil."

Virgil's cheeks turned a little bit redder and he ducked his head. "Thanks," he set down his pencil and looked back at Logan. "What about you?"

"Pre-med," Logan responded. "I am aiming to become a neurosurgeon."

Virgil let out a low whistle, "That's a pretty lofty goal, L. Good for you."

"Thank you."

Logan was most definitely  _ not _ blushing. He still looked away, taking a moment to watch the barista make a drink.

Their time was ticking away and once it was over, Logan would be alone again. He looked over at Virgil, who'd turned back to his music and was humming a bit under his breath.

"I can help you if you want," Logan said before he could think better of it. "With your math, I mean."

Virgil paused in his humming, raising an eyebrow at Logan. The silence stretched on and Logan wondered if he was even going to answer. "You don't have to," he said finally, his voice quiet.

Logan's next words startled himself. "I want to."

Virgil's small smile was probably one of the best things Logan had ever seen.

Logan never really realized happened. Weekly sessions turned into every other day sessions. Sessions turned into hanging out. Hanging out turned into friendship and Virgil quickly became a constant in Logan's life. Even when they separated for the weekend or over the breaks, they texted each other back and forth with almost no pause.

If you asked Logan why, he would probably start on some tangent about the inevitability of stars crashing into each other.

But if you asked him if he loved Virgil Ricardo Alvarado, he would adamantly deny that he had such feelings. After all, Virgil was one of his best friends. And he knew, better than most, that neither of them wanted romance. That neither of them were even supposed to have each other as soulmates.

It was easier this way, he would tell you, with a strained look and a tight voice. 

* * *

The first time Logan met Virgil's dads had been an accident.

The two of them were lying next to each other on the bed in Virgil's dorm. It was a tight squeeze, with their arms pressed against each other and one of Logan’s legs hanging off the edge, but Logan had grown so used to it by now that it hardly bothered him at all. Well, it didn't bother him until his leg fell asleep. Logan had one of Virgil's bluetooth earbuds in and Virgil had the other as soft instrumental music played off of Spotify. 

When Logan first looked through Virgil's music, he'd been pleasantly surprised to find that Virgil didn't just listen to the edgy rock music that he played in his band. In fact, he had every variety of music from folk to heavy metal from classical to rap. That day, he also learned that Virgil played a total of seven instruments (and the tambourine, but they both agreed that didn't count; Declan, however, disagreed), including the violin.

Listening to music together became a regular occurrence after that. They listened while they studied, while they talked, and sometimes, while they nodded off, heads pressed together. Logan got excited when he discovered a new song that he could share with Virgil. He found himself absolutely enraptured when Virgil explained certain aspects that he enjoyed. In two years, Logan learned more about music from Virgil than he had in his entire life living with Thomas.

Logan’s heart definitely did  _ not _ skip a beat when he noticed the little playlist labelled “L’s Songs <3”.

That day, during the final week of their second year, they had put away their books and laid down to talk. Virgil left his gloves on the bedside table and when Logan looked down, he could see the light blue edges around his hand. His fingers beat out a slight rhythm, his pinky bumping Logan’s ever so lightly. Logan understood the vulnerability that came with the absent fabric. Even though Logan was one of Virgil's soulmates, it still took the other boy nearly a year to trust Logan enough to remove them.

They were discussing a topic Logan had meant to bring up months ago, when the idea first popped into his mind.

"Do you have any idea how expensive rent is in the city?" Virgil questioned, a little incredulous, but there was a hitch in his voice that Logan had come to associate with excitement.

"Of course," Logan replied. He shifted from his back to his side so he could look at Virgil, propping himself up on his elbow. He noticed how Virgil’s tapping stopped when the contact was cut off. "I researched it prior to suggesting it."

Logan wasn't sure what the expression on Virgil's face translated to, but it was one he often had with Logan. It was also one Logan had never seen directed at anyone else. The near constant crease in Virgil's eyebrows eased and the tiniest smile slipped into his lips. 

It was a look that made Logan's heart attempt backflips in his chest.

"Of course you did," Virgil said, his voice soft with the smallest hint of a laugh.

Logan had to turn away, lest his unusual palpitations turn deadly. "I will have my portion of the rent covered," Logan said, going back to the matter at hand. "And I understand that your bartending job pays quite well. Not to mention your concerts."

"Gigs," Virgil corrected. When Logan looked over at him with confusion, that same gentle expression was still on his face. "That one's in your vocab cards."

"Oh," Logan managed to breathe out. 

The cards themselves were something that Declan had actually suggested. Perhaps he noticed just how out of touch Logan was with modern slang. But after the suggestion, Virgil and Logan had spent the rest of the night scrolling through Urban Dictionary and writing them out. Sometimes, when Logan misunderstood a new phrase, he found a card for it on top of his stack, scribbled in Virgil’s spiky, concise handwriting.

He wanted to check the cards and locate the proper definition for “gigs”, but Logan found that he couldn’t tear his stare away from Virigl’s face.

Logan traced the light brown rings about Virgil’s pupils. If it wasn’t for the slight discoloration, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to separate the pupils from the irises. Virgil’s eyes reminded Logan of the obsidian he kept in his rock collection, dark and shiny and particularly eye-catching.

Virgil bit down on his lip and Logan's gaze was drawn to the movement.

Logan was suddenly aware that he wanted to kiss Virgil. His body leaned down of its own accord, his gaze flickering from Virgil’s eyes to his lips.

This wasn’t the first time Logan thought about kissing the musician. He found that it crossed his mind at least three times a day. The first time was always when Virgil texted him at eleven in the morning with a small “good morning”. The second always came with circumstance, perhaps when Virgil fell into such a deep concentration that his tongue started to peek out or when he played a new song for Logan, looking for an objective opinion, or if Logan blinked awake from one of their naps and saw the completely vulnerable, unbothered expression on his sleeping face. The third was, without fail, when they said goodbye before going to their separate dorms.

But everytime Logan acknowledged the thought, it came with a pang of guilt and annoyance. For once, his brain was silent. Perhaps it was because, in that moment, Virgil was moving upwards to meet him. In that moment, with his hair slightly mussed and with that- that  _ look _ on his face, Logan wasn’t sure if he could stop himself.

The door flew open.

Virgil squeaked before bolting upwards on impulse. Logan didn’t register the movement. Their heads collided with a hard and painful crack. With a grunt, Logan sat up, only to pitch backwards off the bed. Virgil jerked out a hand and caught his wrist.

He yanked Logan forward and the bespectacled boy crashed into his soulmate’s chest.

Logan’s ears rang, black dots sparking in front of his vision. He was mildly aware of Virgil’s grip tightening around his wrist and he could feel the quickening of Virgil’s heart against his forehead. But for the most part, all he could focus on was the pounding in his skull.

“Fuck,” Virgil breathed out, the word barely audible to even Logan.

Logan sat up, pressing his free hand to his head. He turned, expecting to find Declan or Virgil’s roommate in the doorway. Instead, he was met with two faces that he’d only ever seen in pictures. In Virgil’s pictures. The two men appeared just as stunned and confused as Logan.

Logan’s stomach suddenly dropped.

He lurched away from Virgil, aiming for the trashcan and just barely making it. Over the sound of his retching, he heard Virgil release a string of curses. And then a warm hand was against Logan’s back, rubbing soothing circles against his shirt. He rested his forehead against the edge of the trashcan, eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of Virgil’s fingers against his back.

“Sorry,” he heard a calm voice say. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Virgil didn’t respond to his father. Instead, his face appeared in Logan’s peripheral. When he turned his head, Logan could see that Virgil was breathing a little heavier than usual. But his face was one of concern, not panic.

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked, his voice soft. “I’m sorry.”

“I am alright,” Logan replied at the same volume. He suspected this was not a conversation for Virgil’s dads’ ears.

He stilled when Virgil’s hand came to rest against his head. As Virgil’s fingers brushed against the injury, Logan winced. Virgil flinched and a sudden pain filled Logan’s chest. He watched his soulmate’s eyes widen and heard his breathing hitch.

“Hey,” Logan said quickly, reaching out to touch Virgil’s shoulder. “Breathe. Remember to breathe.”

Virgil nodded, his eyes sliding closed as he inhaled. Exhaled.

When Logan first learned about Virgil's anxiety, he had gone on a full research binge, learning everything he could about it. Ways of coping, ways to calm him. He'd almost overwhelmed Virgil when he dumped all of the information on him. Logan had been confused when his soulmate wasn't happy with his discoveries.

Declan later explained the easiest ways for Virgil to deal with it. One of which was to remind him to breathe before it got too far gone. Or to ground him, with music or an interesting little color game.

Logan readied himself in case Virgil needed more than just a breathing reminder.

“Little cloud?”

Logan knew Virgil was okay when he cringed and let out a small groan. He turned around with a mildly exasperated look. “Are you ever going to stop calling me that, Papa?”

The shorter of the two men smiled warmly as the taller man let out a loud, hearty laugh that made Logan wince. Virgil’s hand was there in a second, tracing the circles against his back once again. Logan closed his eyes, leaning against Virgil involuntarily. Then he remembered where they were and who was standing in front of them.

Logan bounced up, straightening his back and moving as far away from Virgil as the tiny dorm room provided. 

“Hi, dads,” Virgil said as he stood. 

Logan watched in awkward silence as Virgil gave each of his dads a hug. The shorter man whispered something into Virgil’s ear and the musician looked paler than usual. Logan’s stomach clenched when he saw Virgil reach for his gloves and tug them on. It tightened even more when he saw the dads visibly relax.

“Are you going to introduce us to your friend, Virge?” the taller man said. He was built like the wrestlers that Logan sometimes saw in passing on the television, tall and wide. His skin was a dark tan and he shared the same dark eyes and hair of his son. Based on the photos, this was Alejandro Alvarado or as Virgil referred to him, Dad.

Logan’s gaze shifted to the other man. He was shorter with wire-framed glasses and gray streaks in his dark brown hair. His eyes were an interesting yellowish Hazel and his nose was crooked, like it had been broken once or twice. James Alvarado, otherwise known as Papa.

Virgil tensed, glancing back at Logan with a bit of desperation in his eyes. Logan started to rise, but Virgil was there a moment later, helping him up. “Don’t push yourself,” he said as he stepped back. His gaze darted up to Logan’s head and he winced. “We’re gonna need to get that looked at.”

Logan nodded a bit, trying not to irritate his head. Getting a possible concussion right before the year ended was  _ not _ ideal.

He shook off Virgil’s hand, trying to ignore the hurt expression that crossed his soulmate’s face. “My name is Logan Sanders,” Logan held out his hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Misters Alvarado.”

“What a polite young man,” James Alvarado said before taking Logan’s hand. “It’s James, please.”

His shake was firm and it took Logan a moment to realize that it was the same handshake Virgil had. He held out his hand to the second Alvarado father, but Alejandro didn’t take it. Logan dropped his arm, wondering what he’d done wrong, when Alejandro yanked him into a tight, crushing hug.

“Dad!” Virgil shouted.

Logan stumbled back away from Alejandro as soon as he was put down. He didn’t realize that he’d moved to stand behind Virgil until the musician stepped in front of him.

“No hugs,” Virgil growled, his voice low and a little angry. He sounded  _ protective _ . Something in Logan’s stomach stirred and he worried that he might be sick again. 

“Sorry,” Alejandro said, looking a little sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck as James rolled his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here anyway?” Virgil asked.

Logan blinked. He expected Virgil's dads to be upset with him for using such strong language, but James just shrugged.

“We were in town,” James said and Logan was a little stunned by how quiet and pleasant his voice was compared to Alejandro’s. "Thought we'd stop by since you're not coming home for a couple more weeks. Even though you won't tell us  _ where _ you're going."

Logan shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with his hands. He had assumed that Virgil told his dads he was going to spend the first couple of weeks of summer with a friend. That friend being Logan. 

Those plans had been set into motion months ago when Logan received an invitation to the wedding of one of his cousin's. Initially, Logan had been fine with going since Thomas and Kristopher would be there, but then Kristopher unexpectedly won tickets to a romantic cruise during the same time. And Nana was quite adamant that at least one of them had to be in attendance.

Virgil had actually volunteered to go. And they both decided that it was time Logan came clean to his family about his soulmates. He had been surprised when Virgil agreed to the plan.

Did he not even mention that he was traveling to the other side of the country?

Virgil coughed awkwardly as he ruffled his hair.

The Alvarado fathers glanced over at Logan before Alejandro turned to his son. "We were also hoping to discuss something with you."

Neither of the boys moved until James added, "In private."

"Oh," Logan muttered before turning to Virgil. "I should go have this possible concussion looked at anyways."

Virgil looked at him with that same soft look again and Logan was very aware that he wanted to kiss Virgil again. This time, his brain warned him against it, especially when he noticed the unhappy look Virgil's dads shared.

"Will you be fine walking by yourself?" he asked quietly.

Logan almost wanted to say no, just to have an excuse to pull Virgil away from his dads. But after a moment, he nodded. Virgil didn't miss the wince that followed and his phone was out in a second. He typed something out, nodded to himself, and gave Logan a half-smile.

"Dee will be here in a minute."

"I-" Logan mentally shook himself. He was truly feeling out of sorts at the moment. "That will be satisfactory. Thank you."

"I'll text you later," Virgil promised.

Logan gave him the barest smile before excusing himself. James closed the door behind him and Logan heard the lock click into place.

He began the trip down the hall and, almost as if he were a ghost materializing from the walls, Declan appeared next to him, wearing his usual arrogant grin.

Logan didn't really  _ dislike _ Declan, but he found that he could only stand the yellow-haired man for so long before he grew annoyed. But he did stand him, for Virgil's sake.

And he appreciated him now because Declan was an excellent source of information on Virgil's past.

"Walking with you is truly how I wanted to spend my afternoon," Declan said as he whirled around, walking backwards.

"It was not required of you to say yes," Logan grumbled as he stuck his hands into his pockets. It was a weak attempt to stop himself from fidgeting.

"V's my friend. You're V's friend. Ergo, you're my friend."

"The transitive property does not apply in this case, Declan."

He sighed when he saw Declan's confused look. Logan opened his mouth to explain it, but the punk rocker just shrugged. "So, what happened? Why isn't Virgil walking with you?"

It had not occurred to Logan that Virgil did not inform Declan of the situation. His fingers twitched in his pockets. "Virgil's fathers are here."

That stopped Declan cold. Logan's momentum carried his a few more steps before he looked back at Declan, who appeared a bit bewildered. "Why are they here?" he asked quietly, more to himself than to Logan. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I do not understand," Logan said. "His fathers are allowed to visit unannounced, are they not? My twin brother would surely do the same thing if he lived in New York."

Declan blinked. "You have a  _ twin _ ?"

"That fact has no bearing on the current situation," Logan deadpanned.

"Right, right," Declan raised his hands in a placating manner. "It's just a bit weird that his dads are here  _ now _ ."

"Why?"

Declan gave Logan a look he didn't understand. Confused and a bit… Sad? "V didn't tell you?"

Logan swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think it is quite obvious I don't know what you're talking about."

"I…" Declan started before shaking his head and giving Logan another one of his toothy grins. "You know what? It doesn't matter; let's go to the nurse."

"Declan," Logan warned. "If something is wrong with Virgil, it is important that I know it."

Declan rolled his eyes. "Why? Because you're his soulmate?"

"Not so loud."

"Are you afraid that someone will overhear us? That your little secret will be out. Breaking news, everyone!" Declan whirled around, talking to the empty hallway. "Logan Sanders has a soulmate!"

" _ Quiet _ ," Logan hissed, marching towards Declan.

"Oh, I am  _ so _ afraid of you," Declan said with a sneer. "Stop pretending you care about Virgil, Logan. It would save everyone time and energy."

What the hell was Declan on about?

"I do care about Virgil," Logan snapped. "I love-"

Logan's hands flew up to his mouth to stop himself from saying anything else. He suddenly felt unbearably hot.

The grin that crossed Declan's face was completely wicked. Not wicked as in "cool or interesting", but wicked as in "pure (subjective) evil". Logan realized he had been tricked, bamboozled, duped,  _ deceived _ , and all manner of synonyms.

"And people call me a liar," Declan said with a cocked head. "Your lies are written on your face, Logan, plain as day."

"You-" Logan paused, for once at a complete loss for words. He dropped his pointed finger with a sigh. "What are you attempting to accomplish here, Declan? What do you want me to do?"

Declan's smile fell and Logan could not remember a time when he had look more serious. "I want you to acknowledge your feelings for Virgil," Declan said. "And I want you to put them away for now."

"What?" Logan arched an eyebrow at him, blinking back the sudden pain that shot through his temple. "My feelings are not a book. I cannot just shelf them away like a book I am saving for later."

"Fuck, you're a nerd," Declan shook his head. "Look, Virgil's dads are soulmate purists."

Logan felt sick again. He clenched his fingers into tight fists at his side and Declan's eyes dropped to the movement. He continued, "They had a hard time accepting that he had two soulmates. I can only imagine what would happen if they found out the truth."

It occurred to Logan that Virgil was willing to come out to the Sanders family. He was willing to do that for Logan, to give Logan the chance to finally be honest with his family. It never occurred to him that he couldn’t do that with his own family. That, perhaps, he didn’t feel safe doing it.

“Last weekend,” Declan said, his words quiet, borderline conspiratorial. “Virgil forgot to put his gloves on before they went out to eat. When Alejandro noticed, he practically exploded. That’s why he came back early.”

Logan had found it odd that Virgil asked to meet up on Sunday for breakfast. But he’d  _ seemed _ fine. He’d seemed happy to spend more time with Logan. 

“Like I said,” Declan stepped closer. “Put the feelings away for now. Virgil will come clean, in his own time.”

Logan didn’t miss the implication in Declan’s words, but eventually, he just nodded and the two continued on their way to the nurse’s office.

And later that night, after Virgil showed up at Logan’s dorm looking less than optimal, they laid side by side on Logan’s bed and listened to Beehtoven. He did not ask the questions rising up in him. He did not confess or kiss him. He just laid there, offering all the silent comfort he could.

“Okay,” Virgil said suddenly, waking Logan from his dozed state.

“Okay?” Logan prompted sleepily. He was suddenly jolted awake when Virgil’s pinky curled around his. He tried to slow his heartbeat, tried to force down the heat in his face, tried to shelf his feelings away like a book.

But when he opened his eyes, Virgil was staring at him with that wonderful expression. “Let’s get an apartment,” he said.

And Logan was sure he looked just as stupidly in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that it is important to note that homophobia does not really exist in this universe. Same-sex soulmates have existed since the dawn of soulmarks themselves. However, soulmate purism does exist and is an allusion to homophobia.
> 
> Analogical and Royality collide in the next chapter. Stay tuned!


	9. virgil alvarado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving Logan has become second nature; Virgil still hasn't confessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: vomit, mentions of disownment, alcohol, mentions of drugs, implied/referenced sexual content, strong language, confessions

Virgil stomped and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm himself. The chill of December hung in the air like Christmas lights. Snow tried to collect on the ground, but in New York City, the white snowflakes turned to gray slush in an instant. Virgil had lived in the city so long that beautiful white snowdrifts seemed a distant memory, even if he’d just seen them in Redmond with Logan last week.

Speaking of Logan. “Come on, L!” Virgil shouted back through the open front door. “I’m fucking freezing out here.”

Virgil dropped his gaze to his phone as it buzzed, showing a text message from Pat.

**_Happy Christmas Eve Eve! From Pat and Prince!_ **

Virgil allowed himself a small smile as he returned the sentiment from “Storm and Logic”. Logan had been a little weirded out by Virgil’s close friendship with an online person originally, but he seemed to accept it when he noticed how happy Pat made him.

There was some crashing about inside the townhouse that made Virgil look up in concern, but after a moment, Logan emerged, putting on his scarf. “I am coming, Virgil,” he said as he moved to pull on his gloves. “No need to be so impatient.”

Virgil rolled his eyes before stepping forward. He untied Logan’s awkwardly twisted scarf before fixing it. Neither of the men acknowledged the heat that rose to their faces. By this point, their feelings for each other had become background noise. Painfully undiscussed background noise.

Though, if Virgil was honest, he found that he was slowly getting closer and closer to acting on those feelings.

“You really need to learn how to put on a scarf right, L,” Virgil said. “What are you going to do without me in Redmond?”

Logan’s lips quirked up into a half-smile, which might as well have been a grin from him. “I will have Thomas there. Besides, we will only be gone for a couple of days; Thomas-”

“Has to be back in town for his last shows. I know, I know.”

Logan’s hands wrapped around Virgil’s and he pulled their grips away from the scarf. Virgil tried not to think about the way his heart still pounded after all of these years. “Have you reconsidered your fathers’ offer?” Logan questioned.

Virgil’s smitten feeling fell and he pulled away from his soulmate. “No,” he said shortly. “And neither has Adelaide.”

“I can stay home,” Logan said seriously. It was something he’d been saying for weeks, ever since Virgil received the first invitation from his dads.

It had been years since Virgil's dads showed up on campus and met Logan, and in that time, Virgil still hadn't come clean about having three soulmates. With everything that transpired in such a short amount of time, he decided to put it on the back burner. First Bisabuela passed, which only served to drag his dads further into soulmate purism. And then one of Virgil's cousins married someone that was  _ not _ their soulmate and Virgil had watched as the family systematically stopped including them in their lives.

And then the real ball dropped.

Adelaide Alvarado had been adopted about six months after Virgil's soulmarks appeared. And though his dads never said it, Virgil was more than aware that they'd adopted her so they could have a "normal" child. After all, his dads always planned on only having one child. It was a bit of a shock to the rest of the family too.

Even so, Virgil never held Adelaide accountable for his dads’ shortcomings. And in spite of it, he loved his little sister fiercely. And she loved him just as much. 

And that was why, two years ago, when Adelaide admitted to the family that she and her soulmate, Kimber, were completely platonic and would remain that way, Virgil had stood beside and supported her. It had cost him his relationship with most of the family, including his dads. Luckily, Virgil had already graduated with their money and didn’t have to worry about that particular finance.

Adelaide moved in with Kimber’s family to finish out her last year of highschool and when she started college at NYU with a full ride scholarship, she moved into Logan and Virgil’s spare bedroom. She spent most of the time at her dorm, but she came home on the weekends and spent the holidays with them. Sometimes, she showed up during the week, looking for Logan’s help with her schoolwork.

When Virgil received the text inviting both of them (they didn’t have Adelaide’s new phone number) back to Montgomery for the holidays, the siblings agreed to ignore it. After all, they were both more than happy to order take-out and settle down for their annual Tim Burton marathon.

He told Logan as much as they walked down the stairs towards the waiting cab. “And this year, we’re going to have to argue about whether or not we’re adding Dumbo to our list,” he said, sliding in as Logan held the door open.

Logan quickly gave the driver the address and they settled back into their seats. “I am still confused over how Tim Burton has anything to do with Christmas.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, giving Logan a soft, fond smile. “Tim Burton directed the Nightmare Before Christmas.”

“Which is certainly a Halloween movie,” Logan argued. “It is more frightening than festive.”

Virgil quirked his head towards Logan with a small laugh. “Are you  _ afraid _ of the Nightmare Before Christmas, Logan?”

Logan flushed, turning to watch the city flash by them. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Virgil bit his lip so he wouldn’t burst out into laughter. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, an important factor in their friendship. They were twenty-five now and still had yet to meet their other two soulmates, but they both hoped they would respect that fact.

“Are we staying for the celebration afterwards?” Logan asked suddenly and Virgil glanced over at him.

“You mean the afterparty?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “Although I find that word childish, so I will refer to it as a celebration.”

“You’ve been going to afterparties for years, L, and we’ve never had this discussion.”

Logan sniffed. “It’s a recent decision.”

Virgil couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face. He shook his head a bit with a huff. “That’s up to you,” he said in response to the first question. “You do have to be up early tomorrow to catch your flight.”

“I could sleep on the plane,” Logan pointed out. “I only ask because Thomas suggested I sleep at his apartment to save time in the morning. My bags are already there anyways.”

Virgil tried to mask his disappointment. He’d been hoping to say goodbye to Logan before he left. And maybe make a declaration of love before he got on the plane. Because then they would both have time and space to sort out that mess over Christmas. But what if he did that and ruined Logan’s Christmas? What if Logan didn’t want to return to New York City? No, that was ridiculous. He literally just started his residency at the hospital.

“Breathe, Virgil,” Logan said, his tone quiet and cautious. Virgil let out a slow breath; he was still always surprised when Logan noticed he was psyching himself out. “We do not have to go to the  _ afterparty _ .”

Virgil huffed out a laugh at the disgust in Logan’s voice using that word. He shook his head. “No, it’s fine,” he said. When he looked over at Logan, he was watching him carefully, as if trying to deduce if he was lying or not. “I just started down some weird tangent.”

“May I ask what about? It does sometimes help you to vocalize your thoughts.”

Virgil was, thankfully, saved by the cab pulling in front of the theater. It was a pretty meager crowd, considering it was a relatively small production. Virgil suspected that more people were down Broadway watching the bigger ones. He wouldn’t be surprised if he and Logan were doing that one day, going to see Thomas on the stage.

For now, this was Thomas’s first performance in New York City. “Should we have brought flowers?” Virgil questioned as they stepped into the line.

Logan already had their IDs out, prepared to give them to the ticket taker. Their tickets were supposed to be on hold, but what if they weren’t? He wasn’t sure why he was so worried. It’s not as if his friends ever had trouble getting their tickets to his gigs. Logan glanced over at Virgil, who stepped a little closer as someone came hurrying down the sidewalk. “I sent some to his apartment this morning,” he said before pausing, his expression considering. “Though I am not sure he would have been home to receive them. Do we have time to go to the grocery store?”

“Kris would’ve been home,” Virgil reminded him.

“Oh yes,” Logan nodded. “Of course. Then it should not be required of us.”

“Okay,” Virgil let out a small sigh of relief. “We’re next.”

Logan held out the IDs as Virgil said, “We’re Logan and Virgil. We have tickets on hold.”

The ticket taker offered them a sunny smile as she took the cards. “Of course!” she grabbed a box from under the table. She peered at Logan for a moment. “Oh, you’re Thomas’s brother, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Logan responded as he took the IDs back and put them into his wallet.

The woman’s gaze turned to Virgil. “And you must be-” her eyes settled on Virgil’s red soulmark and he shifted uncomfortably. “His soulmate?”

“Yes,” Logan said without hesitation and Virgil was surprised to feel Logan’s fingers slip into his. His voice was almost upset. “He is.”

Her gaze bounced back over to Logan before she smiled again at them. “Of course! Here’s your tickets, enjoy the show!”

Virgil expected Logan to let go when they got inside, but it was almost as if the bespectacled man forgot he was holding his hand. He led them over to their seat a few rows back as Virgil double and triple checked that they were the right seats. He automatically turned to Logan, undoing his scarf then his own. The movements were so routine by now that they hardly noticed it. Logan took both of their coats, slipping the gloves and scarves into the pockets and laying them across his lap.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Virgil asked. He’d seen the open bar when they came in. “Something festive maybe?”

“My usual please,” Logan said as he looked up at Virgil with a soft smile. His phone was out to text Thomas that they had arrived. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Virgil said before he made his way back out into the lobby.

The bartender, funnily enough, was actually someone he knew. They’d worked at a convention together a few months back. “Hiya!” the bartender greeted when he approached. “Long time no see, Virge.”

“What’s up, Aaron?” he responded before giving their orders: an Irish coffee for Logan and, Virgil decided at the last minute, some spiked eggnog for himself.

Aaron shrugged as he moved to make the drinks. “Same old, same old. How about you? Off for the holidays?”

“Not really. Gotta work tomorrow night.”

Aaron set the drinks down and leaned on the counter. Virgil checked to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind him. No, there wasn’t. “Did you take tonight off just for this?” Aaron asked. “Kind of a dull way to spend your Christmas Eve Eve, isn’t it?”

“My friend is actually performing tonight,” Virgil said before adding. “And kinda like theater besides.”

“Still,” Virgil startled when Aaron’s hand settled on top of his. “If you want to spend it doing something else, I’ll be here.”

Virgil withdrew his hand with a small, almost hysterical laugh. “Thanks for the drinks, Aaron.”

He left as quickly as he could, barely registering the hot eggnog that sloshed onto his hand. When he got back to the seats, Kris was already sat down next to Logan. As he got closer, he could hear them discussing something about mosquitos. He tried not to let his amusement show.

Logan glanced up at Virgil as he approached, taking both of the cups so he could sit down. “Thank you,” Logan said before continuing whatever point he was making. 

Virgil silently took his cup back, taking a sip of his drink. He settled back to people-watch, slipping one earbud in. He would take it out when the show started, of course, but it was nice to lose himself for a couple of minutes until then.

“Patton!” the voice cut through the quiet meandering of the crowd like a knife.

Virgil winced and more hot eggnog sloshed onto his finger. Logan looked over at the movement, his brow slightly creased. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Virgil set his cup down to suck on his burned finger.

When he looked up, he saw a curly-haired blonde man hurrying over to one of the wings, where a much taller ginger man was waiting, wringing his hands together. Based on his unusual outfit of choice, he was likely a member of the cast. He looked a little panicked.

The short man, Patton most likely, grabbed the ginger’s hands. He whispered something quietly, quickly. It seemed to assuage the actor’s worries, at least a little bit. Virgil smiled a bit into his cup, amused by the entire scenario.

“What are you looking at?” Logan questioned and Virgil realized that Kris had disappeared. He relocated him by some other people, likely his and Thomas’s friends.

“That couple over there,” Virgil pointed just a bit.

Logan’s eyes focused on the two men before recognition flashed across his face. “Based on Thomas’s pictures, I believe that is Roman Carroll,” he said before pulling out the playbill and pointing to the name. “He is one of the leads.”

“He looks hella nervous,” Virgil said.

“It is also his first performance in the city,” Logan told him. “I suspect that Thomas will introduce us at the celebration.”

“So we are going?” Virgil asked.

“I-” Logan blinked. “I am sorry, I assumed that you were fine with that.”

“I am, L,” Virgil said, settling a hand on Logan’s thigh. 

The nerd flushed a dark shade of crimson and took a sip of his coffee. His lips pinched a bit and Virgil tilted his head. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It is not nearly as good as yours,” Logan muttered, glaring down at the cup as if it’d attempted to attack him. “I think you ruined Irish coffee for me, Virgil.”

Virgil’s chest swelled at the compliment and he could feel his lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll make you a proper one when you get back from Redmond, okay?”

Logan’s hand settled on top of Virgil’s and now it was the musician’s turn to blush. “I would like that,” he said in a soft voice he only ever used with Virgil.

“If you will take your seat, we will be starting the program in five minutes.”

Kris hurried back over to them, waving to Virgil as he sat down. Within a few minutes, everyone was sitting down and the lights were dimming. Virgil let his head drop down onto Logan’s shoulder, their hands still resting on Logan’s thigh.

* * *

Virgil tended to stick to the walls during parties. He’d done it most of his life, even in high school when he was a well-known punk. It was quite a stark contrast to Declan, the one that dragged him to most of the parties.

Admittedly, this afterparty was a lot more subdued than the ones that Virgil was used to. At most of his parties, there was at least two kinds of drugs being passed away and a couple making out (or more) in every corner. The first time he brought Logan to one of them, the two of them ended up sitting on the roof, Virgil playing an acoustic rendition of some Evanescence song. Logan still went to most of the afterparties of his gigs with him.

There was no drugs at this party, just some champagne and beer getting passed around. It was also pretty small, seemingly limited to just the cast members and their friends and family. It was also, weirdly enough, in some hipster coffeeshop. Christmas music was playing from a hastily set up stereo system and there wasn’t even a designated DJ.

So yeah, Virgil definitely had his earbuds in. He was watching Logan on the other side of the shop as he talked to Thomas. Thomas himself was practically glowing, leaning heavily on Kris as he sipped at his beer. Virgil knew the look on his face; the pride of a show well-done. And, Virgil admitted, it was actually quite a good show.

Although the general consensus seemed to be that Roman Carroll stole the show. At the moment, that actor was leaning back against one of the counters, surrounded by people. He seemed way too comfortable in the coffeeshop. His partner, the cute blonde Patton guy from earlier, was tucked up against him, seemingly not paying attention to the conversation. 

Now that they were closer, Virgil could see that there were tattoos on Patton’s arms, most of them hidden underneath the rolled up sleeves of his pale pink jumper. They were all colorful and bright and one of them was definitely the same as the only tattoo on Roman’s forearm.

He almost wanted to walk up to Patton and ask him about them, maybe show off his own collection. Logan and Declan always told him he needed to make more friends.

“Hey.”

Virgil looked up, surprised to find Logan in front of him. His gaze shifted to Thomas and Kris and then he immediately looked away. PDA always made him a little uncomfortable. Logan sat down across from Virgil, sliding him a cup of tea. Virgil took it with a befuddled expression, pulling on his earbuds out.

“Where’d you get this?”

“I asked the owner,” Logan responded before nodding in the direction of a man wearing sunglasses.

Virgil noticed that he looked a lot like Roman and wondered if they were related. “Thank you,” he said, taking a sip of the lavender tea.

Logan nodded in his way of acknowledgement. He took drank some of the water in his hands. “We still need to discuss your ‘weird tangent’ from earlier,” he said and Virgil’s breath hitched as he muttered a string of curses under his breath. “That bad?”

Virgil exhaled slowly. Maybe now was better than never. Declan did say that if he didn’t tell Logan by New Year’s, he was going to do it for him. And that sounded five thousand times more mortifying than just coming clean. Plus, Logan was staying over at Thomas’s house for the night. If it went bad, Virgil could just excuse himself and go home. He didn’t  _ think _ Logan would hate him enough to move out.

“Can we go outside?” he asked quietly and Logan nodded.

“I already offered to take out the trash in exchange for the tea.”

Virgil snorted, feeling a bit more at ease. Logan took him by the hand and led him behind the counter. Virgil could feel Roman’s eyes on him as they passed, but he didn’t move to stop them. Logan let go to pick up the trash bag by the door and Virgil felt colder without the contact.

They slipped out through the back door and after Logan tossed the trash into the bin, they moved further down the alley, away from the dumpster. Virgil leaned back against the wall, watching as his breath curled into the air like white smoke. He realized that leaving parties was a bit of a motif for them.

Logan gave Virgil all of the time he needed. It was nice, not to be prompted or questioned. To just sit in comfortable silence. But Virgil knew he’d have to speak eventually.

“I believe there is something we need to discuss,” Logan said suddenly and Virgil looked up at him in surprise. “About us.”

Virgil felt his chest constrict. He shifted in place, reminding himself that he didn’t know if this was good or bad yet. “Yeah, that’s actually what I was thinking about earlier,” he admitted quietly.

Logan’s eyes widened marginally. “I see,” he said. “Well, then it would be beneficial to discuss it now and find the source of your anxiety.”

Virgil bobbed his head once. “You go first.”

“Right, okay,” Logan seemed determined to look anywhere except at Virgil’s face. Which he once again reminded himself could be good or bad. “One moment.”

Virgil watched in confusion as Logan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a couple of index cards. It was almost kind of disgusting how in love with him Virgil was at that moment.

“How long have those been in your pocket?” Virgil asked.

“...Unimportant,” Logan cleared his throat. “Virgil, we have known each other for a little more than eight years now and, in those eight years, you have become my closest friend. You have helped me overcome many trials and tribulations, such as coming out to my family about my soulmarks, and helping me study for my final exam in medical school. You know how I take my coffee, you have introduced me to my favorite songs, and most importantly, you are never offended when I am too blunt.”

Virgil laughed a bit at that one, even though he felt like he was going to cry.

Logan smiled the tiniest bit at the reaction before continuing. “I am sure that we are both very aware of how we feel about each other and yet, we continue to ignore it. The past several years have been very difficult for you, so I have given you space. But I think that space is exactly what I do not need right now.”

He looked up from the cards and Virgil could see the slightly terrified expression in his face. “You one of my soulmates, Virgil. Growing up, I always thought that loving someone so much was dangerous, that having a soulmate was dangerous. But I met you and I realized why people cared so much for their soulmates. Because we need our soulmates. We need someone that understands us the way that you understand me. We need someone that loves us the way that I love you.”

He didn’t continued and Virgil didn’t respond. After a moment, Logan stuck the cards in his pocket. “Now you.”

Virgil just laughed quietly, blinking back the tears in his eyes. He stepped forward and for once, Logan didn’t move away. “Can I kiss you?” Virgil asked.

Logan didn’t say anything. He just swallowed thickly and nodded. Virgil rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder and leaned in.

A crash sounded from the other end of the alleyway and the two men pulled away suddenly. Virgil tensed. What if there was a mugger? Or a rabid cat? Or- “Hello?” Logan called, stepping away from Virgil before he could pull him back. “Are you okay?”

“Logan,” Virgil hissed. 

Logan didn’t seem to hear him and he groaned softly before hurrying after him. His hand went to the knife he kept in his back pocket, just in case. When he got closer, he could hear soft retching and hitching sobs. Then he noticed the pink of the sweater.

“Are you okay?” Logan asked again.

“I-” the voice, who he was pretty sure belonged to Patton broke off, throwing up again. Virgil tried to ignore the way his own stomach churned. “I’m fine, kiddo.”

When they got close enough, Virgil confirmed that it was, in fact, Patton, kneeling on the asphalt and vomiting behind the trash cans. Virgil stepped closer, “You don’t sound okay,” Virgil said, the first words he’d spoken since the crash interrupted his kiss with Logan. Fuck, how many times was that going to happen before he  _ actually _ got to kiss him?

Logan hovered, looking a little green in the face. He never did deal well with vomit, though Virgil didn’t quite know why. Patton took a swig from a water bottle he was holding before spitting it back out onto the ground. He wiped at his face and Virgil noticed he was crying. He also noticed that Patton had the most striking blue eyes Virgil had ever seen.

“Really, I’m fine,” Patton said, his voice shaky. He let out a short laugh. “I just think I caught a bug. I should probably just go home and get some rest.”

He started to stand before closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly. He looked even paler. “Here,” Virgil said, holding out his hand.

Patton beamed up at him and accepted the grip. “Thanks, kid… do…”

Electricity snaked up Virgil’s arm, zapping through his entire body as his eyes widened. Neither of the men moved, stuck to the spot.

Oh  _ fuck _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Pat. Also, I don't know why I gave Patton tattoos; I just saw a punk edit of him and thought: "well, that's too darn adorable". And soulmates having matching tattoos, even cuter!
> 
> So yeah, I jumped forward quite a bit here. I think that once this story is finished, I'll probably start making one-shots about them (both during the time gaps and after the story, just things that don't really fit within the plot; maybe about the other characters too). I'll probably also accept prompts for them.
> 
> Anyways, the next chapter will catch us up on Patton and Roman's story! Summary: Patton never gets sick.


	10. patton blumenthal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton never got sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sickness, vomit, brief violence, panic attacks, implied/referenced sexual content

Patton never got sick. That was one of the weird facts in his life that he’d shrugged off alongside having three soulmates. It was just a part of him, of his life. Of course, it had been a pain in middle and elementary school because Mom never let him stay home from school unless he was sick. But luckily, that meant perfect attendance, which helped with his job application to Starbucks.

Of course, there were a few hiccups. Food poisoning, chickenpox, one particularly startling instance of strep in high school. But for the most part, Patton had a scary good immune system.

So when Patton woke up with a headache and nausea, he’d been more confused than upset. He switched off his alarm and buried his head in his pillow. Roman was still snoozing away peacefully beside him, his arms wrapped tightly around Patton. Patton knew he had to be up in a few minutes to get ready for work, but he didn’t want to. His body felt heavy and his thoughts felt fuzzy.

He let out a soft groan without realizing it and Roman jolted awake. Patton closed his eyes with a sigh. Roman had been such a heavy sleeper in high school, but something about college changed that fact. Or maybe it was the fact that he had to start waking up in the middle of the night to tell Patton to stop writing and come to bed. Either way, now Roman was wide awake and leaning over Patton, his expression concerned.

“Are you okay, babe?” he asked. He whispered his words because they both learned the hard way that the rooms in Remy and Emile’s apartment were paper-thin.

Patton shook his head, immediately regretting it when his vision spun. He moaned and curled in on himself. “I don’t feel well,” he said, the words scratching out of his throat.

“But…” Roman sounded as bewildered as Patton felt. “You don’t  _ get _ sick.”

And then Patton burst into tears. He couldn’t help it. It just  _ hurt _ so much. “Wait, don’t cry!” Roman said, apparently forgetting the quiet rule. “What hurts? Where does it hurt?”

Patton just sobbed harder. 

There was a hesitant knock on the door and Roman jumped up to answer the door. Emile stood there, wearing CatDog pajama bottoms and an Adventure Time shirt and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Patton’s not feeling good,” Roman said, his voice nearly hysterical. Patton couldn’t stop crying. “Can Remy call someone in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Emile said with a soft smile. “Feel better, hun.”

He left and Roman was back at the bedside in a minute. Patton felt terrible for waking him up, especially since he came home late from rehearsal the night before. But Roman didn’t seem bothered. He just smoothed some of Patton’s hair back away from his face, his palm cool against his warm forehead. “Well, you definitely have a fever.”

Patton let out a little whine. He couldn’t get sick, not this close to Christmas. Mom, the twins, and Mallory were coming to visit for mistletoe’s sake.

“It’s okay,” Roman said with a gentle smile. He pressed a kiss to Patton’s forehead. “We’ll get you drugged right up and you can rest, okay?”

He left and Patton must’ve dozed off because suddenly, Roman was nudging him awake. He blinked open his eyes blearily. “Roman?” he whispered, his words catching in his tight throat. He coughed.

“It’s me, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman said with a charming smile. 

"You didn't wake me with a kiss," Patton said with a feeble turn of his lips.

“Wouldn't want both of us being sick. Here, sit up.”

Patton protested, even as Roman helped him into a sitting position. A glass of water was pressed into his hands. “Drink it slowly,” Roman warned.

“I know,” Patton croaked out. He did know. He’d taken care of Roman and Mom more than enough times to know exactly what he was  _ supposed _ to do, but honestly, Patton just wanted to go back to sleep.

But Roman almost seemed to delight in playing nurse for once. He gave Patton water and then some particularly nasty fever reducer and then a thick, syrupy tea that had the sharp aftertaste of mint. Then Roman dragged him out of bed to take a shower and feed him some crackers when everything else sounded awful. It was nearly noon by the time Roman crawled into bed next to Patton and they both dozed off.

Roman got up a few hours later to get ready for rehearsal and Patton fell back asleep. Patton expected that he would wake up the next morning and that would be that.

* * *

That was not that. Patton woke up the next morning feeling just as terrible as before, but he knew he couldn’t spend another day in bed. He also knew that  _ Roman _ couldn’t spend all day taking care of him. After all, it was the opening night of his first play in New York and he had dress rehearsal for most of the day.

So Patton crawled out of bed, quieting a waking Roman with a squeeze of his hand. He padded into the bathroom, drinking another dose of the gross medicine, and taking a shower. Roman joined him a few minutes in, still yawning. He slipped in behind Patton, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on the shorter man’s head.

“Feeling better this morning?” Roman asked, his breath tickling Patton’s neck.

Patton giggled with a nod. He could already feel the medicine kicking in, the steam from the shower opening up his sinuses. “Thanks to you,” he said before turning around and looking up at his dashing boyfriend. “Thank you.”

“I’d kiss you,” Roman declared as he ran a hand through Patton's wet hair. “But I can’t risk it.”

“I know,” Patton said with a grin.

He was about to turn back around to finish his shower when Roman hooked his chin with his finger. Roman raised an eyebrow and smirked and Patton decided he very much liked that expression. Roman’s hands slid down.

“I never said we had to kiss.”

Patton definitely felt a lot better after that shower.

* * *

As it turned out, medicine did not last forever. And by the time Patton arrived at the theater, he felt like he was dying all over again. He sent Roman a quick text to let him know he was there before scrolling down and shooting one to Storm:  **_Happy Christmas Eve Eve! From Pat and Prince._ **

It was only a few weeks after the breakup fiasco that Patton came clean about Storm. Originally, it had hurt Roman to learn that someone else had read Patton’s writing and that, moreover, Patton  _ let _ them. But eventually, after Patton told Roman how much he bragged about him to Storm, Roman came to accept it. Storm became like a pseudo-friend to Roman over time and, every once in awhile, Patton would open a text from Roman, only to find a weirdly obscure picture with the caption “send this to Storm” written below it.

It was really stinking cute.

Patton started to lower himself into his seat when Roman’s shout suddenly carried over the relatively quiet theater. “Patton!”

With a soft sigh, Patton tried to ignore the pounding in his head and made his way over to Roman. His heart clenched when he saw how nervous his soulmate looked. It wasn’t often that Roman doubted himself in the theater. Patton couldn’t even remember him ever having stage fright. Roman was just one of those people born for the stage and that was probably why he got into Tisch.

But now he looked pale and shaky and for the briefest moment, Patton worried that he'd gotten him sick. 

He took Roman’s hands in his own, running his thumb over the purple soulmark on his knuckles. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice quiet. He hoped Roman assumed he was just trying to be gentle and not think that his throat was screaming in protest.

“I can’t do this,” Roman said. He sounded close to tears and Patton knew that crying would only serve to make him more upset because he would just mess up his makeup. “Fuck, Patton, I can’t  _ do  _ this. I’m going to mess up. What if I can’t remember my lines. What if-”

Patton shushed Roman and brought his hands up to his lips to kiss his palms. It seemed to calm down Roman down a little bit. Patton let him breathe for a few seconds before reaching for his face. Roman leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “You can do this,” Patton said, throwing as much conviction into his voice as he could. “I know for a fact that you’re amazing, honey. And if you do miss a line, who cares? I’m still so proud of you.”

“Really?” Roman asked, heartbreakingly soft. 

“Yes."

It was true. When Roman got the call that he got the part, both he and Patton screamed so loud that the dogs in other apartments started howling. That night, they went out to dinner and Roman surprised Patton by bringing him to Central Park.

They spent the night slow dancing to the sounds of the night.

Patton squished Roman’s cheeks until his boyfriend let out a high-pitched laugh and batted his hands away. When Roman leaned down to kiss him, Patton moved back. “Can’t get sick, remember?” he said. “Go wash your hands.”

“Okay,  _ mom _ !” Roman said with a fond, exasperated look before turning to go. At the last moment, he whirled around and kissed Patton’s cheek despite his indignant squeak. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Patton said before adding. “Break a leg!”

As if on cue, Roman slipped and landed flat on his butt. Patton let out a worried sound, but his soulmate just bounced back up and sprinted away.

Patton slogged back to his seat, trying to get rid of the pounding in his head with measured breaths. As he walked back, he passed two men talking quietly. His steps slowed just a bit when he noticed the bright red mark on one of the men’s faces. The same color that Patton’s hand had once been. Patton looked down at the purple soulmark on his hand, thoughts back to the soulmark on Roman's knuckles. Could it-

“If you will take your seats, we will be starting the program in five minutes.”

Patton shook his head and hurried to his seat next to Remy and Emile. He struggled to stay awake during the entire performance.

* * *

Patton was floating. He felt as though he was drifting above the ground, his thoughts a jumbled collection of fleeting ideas. He needed more medicine or he needed, at least, to go home.

But when he looked up at Roman, his soulmate was beaming, practically glowing from the praise from his colleagues. And he knew that if he attempted to excuse himself, Roman would undoubtedly want to leave with him. And Patton couldn't do that to him, not on such a big night. He knew that Roman would be upset with him later for lying, but if Patton could keep that exuberant expression on his face for one more moment, it will have been worth it.

Someone was approaching them and when Patton looked up Thomas and his soulmate, Kris, were standing in front of them, along with one of the men from earlier. A quick cursory glance of the coffeeshop confirmed the the other man was sitting at one of the tables, his head tilted back as he listened to something in his earbuds.

His finger tapped out a best on the table and he was seemingly unaware of the movement.

"I wanted to introduce you guys to my brother," Thomas said. He had the same after show glow that Roman did.

Patton glanced at the new man. He appeared to be very professional, dressed in black slacks, a button-up shirt, and a dark blue tie. His brown hair was slicked back and his eyes were just a touch darker than Thomas's, but that was where the differences more or less ended, aside from the glasses balanced on his nose.

"Hey!" Patton said. He pushed up his sleeves as Thomas's brother looked over at him. "We have the same glasses!"

"Um," he glanced at his twin before nodding. "Yes, it would appear so."

"Greetings, Thomas's brother!" Roman exclaimed and the professional man flinched back a bit. Patton also winced as pain spiked through his head.

"My name is Logan," he grumbled a bit before he glanced back at the man he'd been talking to earlier. He looked less unhappy when he turned back. "I was actually wondering if there was any chance I could get some lavender tea? Thomas informed me that you work here."

"Oh!" Patton said. "I'd make you some for sure, but not in front of the boss."

Patton pointed to Remy, who was making Emile blush about something or another in the corner. 

Logan followed his pointed finger before he nodded. "I see," he said before turning and making a beeline for Remy. 

Patton was about to stop him, but Logan was already halfway across the cafe.

Thomas sighed a bit. "I wish I could say he's usually more social, but…"

"Who's the other guy?" Patton asked. He pinked a bit when he realized he'd said it out loud.

Roman glanced in the direction Patton's attention was in and Patton felt his grip around him tighten just the smallest amount.

"That's Virgil," Thomas said cheerfully, apparently unaffected by Patton's poor manners. "He's Logan's soulmate."

Patton chest swelled with hope.

"But his face-" Roman started.

"Virgil and Logan both have two other soulmates," he paused, looking back at Roman and Patton. "Like you. What if-"

"Okay," Kris said. "Let's move away from the crazy theories now."

"But-"

Kris leaned down and whispered something into Thomas's ear. Thomas pouted but allowed his soulmate to lead him away. Patton giggled softly. Logan joined his brother a moment later and Patton noticed Remy going behind the counter. It looked like he was getting that tea.

Patton accepted a water bottle from Roman, who dropped a kiss on the top of his head. More people came to visit and Patton thought he was starting to feel a bit better.

But then someone brought out some food.

Now, Patton loved food. Probably a bit more than he should've. He was well aware that he was a bit pudgy around the edges, not that he ever really minded. And Roman certainly didn't mind it; he loved stuffing Patton full of food. It was long ago decided that Roman cooked meals and Patton baked desserts and nothing made Patton happier.

He especially  _ loved _ chocolate chip cookies.

But when one of Roman's castmates brought out a tupperware of cookies and the smell wafted into the air, Patton's already churning tummy plummeted. He knew he was going to be sick.

Patton choked down the first round of bile. He quickly turned to Roman and muttered something about getting fresh air. Without waiting for a response, he speedwalked out through the back door.

It was only when he got outside that he realized his mistake. The garbage reeked and the vomit burned up Patton's throat. He lurched forward, spewing what little he'd eaten that day all over the ground. One of the smaller trash cans toppled over, but he hardly registered it in his state.

That is, until Logan and Virgil approached.

He assured them he was fine despite the fact he knew he was crying. He also knew that no one in their right mind would believe him now. And when he tried to stand and a wave of lightheadedness hit him, he knew that there was no chance they'd shrug it off.

"Here," Virgil said, holding out his hand. He was wearing a pair of wool fingerless gloves, Patton noticed absently. And his fingernails were painted black, which was hardly festive.

But despite his dark appearance, Patton couldn't help but feel at ease staring up into Virgil's dark eyes. He felt as if he'd known this man for years.

Patton smiled up at him. "Thanks kid-" his hand grasped the punk's. Electricity arched through Patton's body, pleasant and warm, and distantly familiar. "...Do…"

Both men stared at each other, mouths agape. Patton couldn't help the wide, giddy grin that spread across his face. His intuition was right. Gosh, he just wanted to gather Virgil into a tight hug. Patton was  _ definitely  _ feeling better now.

Virgil ripped his hand back as if he'd been burnt. Patton’s chest seized. He’d pictured this moment so many times and now it was wrong, all wrong. He could feel tears burning against his eyes again as Logan looked between the two of them, his expression stony save for his slightly raised eyebrows. “Oh,” he said.

"Fuck," Virgil hissed.

"Language," Patton corrected on reflex. He felt  _ really _ hot all of a sudden. Was his fever coming back? "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, friend. I-"

Patton tried to stand again, a mistake. The world dropped out from underneath him and he tipped back. With a shout, Virgil made to grab for him.

"Hey, Patton-"

Pain bit into Patton’s ankle as he smacked onto the ground. The sharp coppery taste of blood filled his mouth and he let out a sound reminiscent of a wounded animal.

"Oh my God," Virgil started as he moved towards Patton, his eyes wide with panic. "Are you-"

"Get the  _ fuck _ away from him!"

Patton watched in silent horror as Roman punched their soulmate in the face.

Virgil stumbled back, his foot catching the trash can Patton tipped over.. Patton flinched when Virgil’s skull cracked against the brick wall. He dropped into a crouched position and cradled his head with a low moan. 

Roman jerked to a stop. He flexed his now white knuckles, gaze flickering between Patton and Virgil.

"Dear Newton!"

Patton was suddenly reminded that there was a fourth person there. And he looked  _ furious _ . 

Logan stormed towards Roman, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Patton knew it was fight he wouldn’t win, but he couldn’t find the energy to stop him. His vision was swimming again, his mind floaty. He leaned forward, his ankle screaming in protest. Patton looked over to see Virgil shaking, mumbling something over and over again. He needed to get to him; he needed to make sure he was okay.

Roman shoved Logan away before inhaling sharply. They both stopped cold, Logan’s fists loosening, his entire body vibrating with an angry, nervous energy. He still looked ready to clock Roman. Roman shoved his hands into his hair, a telltale sign of anxiety.

"What the-" Roman started, his volume and pitch raising to near hysteria.

“This is just wonderful,” Logan said, his tone even and a little unnerving. His gaze turned to Virgil before saying his name quietly.

By this point, Virgil was rocking back and forth, muttering the same indiscernible phrase. His breathing was hitched and uneven. He was having a panic attack, Patton realized. Patton’s stomach twisted.

Patton swallowed down the newest wave of nausea and bit his lip against the pain from his ankle. He needed to get up. He needed to defuse the situation. And he needed to do it  _ now _ .

With one last jolt of energy, Patton shoved himself off of the ground. Logan and Roman’s heads swiveled around to look at him. Roman’s expression was a familiar one of concern, but Logan’s face was completely unreadably. “Guys,” Patton started.

The world tilted beneath Patton’s feet as air whooshed past his ears. Roman jolted forward, but Logan moved quicker. As Patton’s neck collided with Logan’s arm, he was distantly aware of one thought.

So  _ that _ ’s what that soulmark was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now they have all met!
> 
> I want to thank everyone for the super nice comments. They really make my day.
> 
> The next chapter is Roman's. Summary: Roman isn't used to sharing.


	11. roman carroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman isn't used to sharing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of alcohol, brief hospital scene, vague mentions of death, mentions of vomit

Well, this was an absolute disaster. Of all of the ways to meet his other two soulmates- Roman shook his head, burying his face deeper into his hands. He pulled away to stare down at his white palm and white knuckles. He’d grown so used to the purple and blue that the lack of them were a little perturbing.

Roman had always known that he was going to punch one of his soulmates in the face. That was just what it meant to have your knuckles colored.

But he never imagined this mess.

The waiting room at the hospital was quiet, almost silent save for hushed whispers and some Christmas music playing from a little speaker on the nurse's desk. It was eerie, almost as if it were a horror movie brought to life. Roman’s gaze drifted from empty chair to empty chair, his legs bouncing up and down.

One of his soulmates, _Logan_ , talked to someone on the phone, his words rushed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses off of his face slightly. And his other soulmate, _Virgil_ , sat in a chair by the wall, curled into a ball as he stared blankly into a glass of water.

Roman’s third soulmate was, painfully, absent.

“Can you _stop_ that?” Logan hissed to Roman, his hand the speaker of his phone.

Roman flushed and dropped his head. His jittery legs slowed as he tried to contain his nervous energy. This wasn’t _right_. Patton was supposed to be next to him, helping him dispel that energy.

Instead, he was sitting in a room with two people that he was supposed to care about as much as Patton. And honestly, at the moment, he didn’t really care about them in the slightest. 

Still, something panged in his chest as he watched Logan and Virgil interact. 

After he hung up his phone, Logan walked over to Virgil. Instead of sitting next to him, like Roman expected him to, Logan knelt in front of the punk man. He said something in a soft voice and Virgil nodded slightly, not raising his gaze. Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil, who leaned his head against Logan’s chest.

In any other circumstance, Roman would’ve found it the epitome of a romantic interaction. He would nudge Patton and the two would coo over the cute couple.

But Patton was gone. Panic suddenly flared up in Roman before he reminded himself firmly that Patton was _fine_. Just unconscious. Jiminety, why didn’t Patton tell him he wasn’t feeling good? Hearing secondhand from Logan that they found Patton throwing up in the alley broke Roman’s heart.

The door opened and Roman didn’t miss how all three of them were on their feet in a second. A startled nurse stood on the other side. She seemed to recover quickly enough, offering them a faint smile. “Are you all here for Patton Blumenthal?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Indeed.”

Roman tried not to think about the fact that they all answered at the same time.

The nurse offered them a warmer smile. “He’s fine,” she told them. “He just needs rest. I’m sure he’ll be fine to check out tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Roman couldn’t wait that long. He stepped forward when Logan asked. “Might I inquire as to what’s wrong with him?”

She turned to Logan, her look a little wary. “And who are you to the patient?”

“We’re his soulmates,” they all said together, their voices carrying varying degrees of aggressiveness.

“Right,” she said, looking a bit uncomfortable. Roman couldn’t blame her; he was uncomfortable as well. “It’s just the flu and he twisted his ankle a bit. Nothing to be too concerned about. Like I said, some rest and antivirals and he will be right as rain.”

She left before they could bombard her with anymore questions. 

“Thank god,” Roman heard Virgil say quietly.

“I told you he was fine,” Logan replied.

“You never know.”

Roman turned around to face them and they paused in their conversation. He swallowed thickly. They were both, admittedly, very handsome, if not his type. Well, up until recently, his type had been bubbly blondes in glasses.

Logan was very much a nerd and in their very limited conversation on the car ride to the hospital, Roman learned that he was studying to be a neurosurgeon. He kept adjusting his glasses and he’d untied his tie, but for the most part, Roman hadn’t seen him emote much. It was a bit unnerving.

Roman knew even less about Virgil. He’d spent most of the car ride coming down from a panic attack. A panic attack that Roman _caused_. Yeah, he probably hated Roman now. Did he know what the soulmark on his face meant? Had he known one of his soulmates was going to sock him?

It didn’t matter.

“Thank you for staying,” Roman said. “But I can handle it from here.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at Roman while Logan just sighed a bit. “It would be the best course of action to sort this all out at the earliest convenience,” Logan said, his voice intoned as if he were giving a lecture and not discussing their lives, their possible _futures_.

Roman watched as Virgil’s hand slipped into Logan’s and the neurosurgeon relaxed very slightly. Roman’s heart ached. He wanted to hold Patton’s hand, get some reassurance from his soulmate. But _these_ men were his soulmates too and all he was getting from them was discomfort and confrontation.

He wanted to leave. Go find the nurse and hold Patton's hand until he woke up. But he knew that when Patton heard what he'd done, he'd be upset.

So Roman stayed.

He sat down across from his two new soulmates and tried to sit still, even though he wanted to shout at them to leave. Because he knew this was important, really, he did. And he knew that he and Patton had talked about this a million and two times and he knew that, in the long run, it would make them happier.

Logan and Virgil both sat as well. Virgil leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs while Logan stayed straight as a board and steepled his fingers on his lap.

"As much as I am sure we would all like to go our separate ways," Logan started. And Roman was struck with the realization that, yeah, he kinda did want to do that. Or perhaps go back in time and change the situation. "Virgil and I know that the fate of soulmates appears to be an inevitablity. As such, I believe we should do what the two of us initially did after meeting each other."

"Which was?" Roman questioned, knowing that Logan would continue unprompted. He just wasn't used to be talked at as opposed to talked to.

"Weekly sessions," Logan continued. "Once a week, we will meet up and socialize before going our separate ways. If something comes of these interactions, then we will readdress the situation then. Is this an adequate situation?"

Roman blinked. Weekly sessions? What were the four of them? Business colleagues? And that was how Virgil and Logan started their relationship? Thinking back, he wondered if they were even _in_ a relationship. He hadn't seen them kiss, not even a peck on the cheek or forehead. They'd barely held hands.

And how long had they known each other? If they were platonic, how long was it going to take for them to get together? Because Roman had the patience of a toddler that wanted candy.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Going slow isn’t really my thing.”

It wasn’t. With Patton, he’d jumped in feet first, falling in love the moment he saw that bright grin. 

Virgil tensed and he and Logan shared a brief glance before Logan cleared his throat. “It is our ‘thing’ and we do not want anyone in this group to feel uncomfortable. Please respect that.”

Roman was struck with a sudden realization. What if Virgil and Logan didn't _want_ to be romantically involved? What if they wanted to remain platonic for the rest of their lives?

Sure, he and Patton had discussed that possibility before. After all, Patton's mom and Mallory were platonic. But discussing it and living it, he was learning, were two very different things.

"Is that really what the two of you did?" Roman asked, a bit incredulous.

Roman glanced over at Virgil, who gave the tiniest nod. He appeared to be trying to look anywhere but at Roman. And Roman was struck with a sudden emotion of fondness he only ever attributed to Patton. For such a tough looking man, Virgil appeared to be very shy and soft.

He didn't want platonic.

But that wasn't really his decision, was it? He knew what Patton would say, if he were here. And Roman also knew that selfishness would get him nowhere. If he wanted all three of his soulmates in his life, he would have to compromise.

And that, that was okay.

"Okay," he said. "Weekly sessions it is "

"Wonderful," Logan said, his voice barely even rising. "Let us trade numbers, so we can work out a schedule that is optimal for everyone. We will ask for Patton's once we meet again since I am uncomfortable with taking it from another person."

So they traded numbers, agreeing to meet after the first show Roman had after Christmas. And then, they were gone. 

And Roman was alone.

* * *

Patton, surprisingly, had _not_ liked the plan. Not one bit. All throughout Christmas, he tried to convince Roman to give him their numbers. Claimed his just wanted to text them and have a little get together.

Roman warned that Patton was still sick and that he should be _resting_. Of course, that didn't matter. When Patton hosted people, he worked his butt off to make sure everyone was happy.

Anika Blumenthal looked a little startled when Roman answered the door instead of Patton or Emile. Even so, she smiled warmly at him and he instantly felt more at ease. Roman rarely talked to his own parents; he’d always felt a bit distanced from them. But over the years, Anika had become like a mother to him. Perhaps more than his own mother had ever been.

“Hello, Roman, darling,” she greeted, pulling the much taller man into a hug. “How are you?”

“Roman!” the twins whooped at the same time before latching onto his legs. 

“Little monsters!” Roman said before turning with them still hanging on. He took the duffel bag from Anika’s hands despite her protests. “Come in, come in.”

Ramsay and Easter were much heavier than they had been the last time Roman and Patton saw them, but he somehow managed to get into the living room, pulling himself forward with the wall. The weight came as soon as it left and he looked up to find Patton standing in the doorway. Roman sighed. He should’ve been resting.

But he wasn’t about to pull him away from his younger siblings. Instead, he set the bag down on the couch and walked over to him.

“Dear,” Roman said with a slow exhale.

Patton rolled his eyes. “I feel _fine_ , Ro,” he said, giving Roman a fond, exasperated smile. “Really.”

“Why wouldn’t you feel fine, love?” Anika asked as she set down the rest of their luggage.

Patton flushed bright red, his gaze dropping to the floor. Before he could answer, Easter tugged on Patton’s sleeve. “Can we have some cookies?”

Roman’s heart swelled when he saw Patton crouch down to get on the twins’ levels. “I was actually waiting to bake them with you,” he said, which was a lie. Roman hadn’t let him out of bed _to_ bake.

As Patton turned to lead the twins away, he winked at Roman. Roman let out a little squawk of protest, but didn’t move to stop him, even when he noticed his slight limp. He didn’t want to ruin the twins’ (and Patton’s) fun. That was until he turned to find a very confused and concerned looking Anika behind him.

It always struck Roman how different, yet how alike Anika and Patton were. Anika was a beautiful woman, something straight out of a fairytale, with dark brown skin and a crown of cloudy black hair (which was starting to become streaked with gray, though Roman would never point that out). Anika was just as short as Patton, though she carried herself with a bit more confidence.

Even so, her smile never left her face, even when she had her hands on her hips and a stern look in her eye. It was a look that Patton had given Roman many, many times. He swallowed.

“What happened?” she asked.

Roman sighed before shaking his head. “A lot, actually.”

The two of them sat down and discussed the tale of the two new soulmates. By the time Roman finished, the cookies were in the oven. When the twins and Patton returned, Anika pulled him away, likely to scold him. Roman played “Guess the Disney Movie” with the kids, belting out songs at the top of his lungs until they returned.

Patton looked sheepish. Without a word, he sat down next to Roman and curled into his side. Roman wound his arms around him as the twins put on a movie. Anika and the twins fell asleep halfway through, no doubt exhausted from their trip.

When the credits rolled, Roman looked down, finding Patton asleep as well. He smiled, sighed, and brought him back to the bedroom. Remy and Emile would be home soon and they would all have to wake up for some of Remy’s pre-Christmas dinner.

It should’ve been the perfect Christmas Eve. But Roman couldn’t help the dread that crept up in the back of his mind.

* * *

“A musician?” Roman clarified, his tone curious, but also doubtful.

Virgil shifted in his seat across from Roman. Next to him, Patton sighed before giving Virgil a bright smile. “I think it’s wonderful that two of us are musicians.”

Virgil muttered a quiet “Thanks.”

The coffeeshop was ridiculously busy for a cold December morning, people moving around the four-seat table like ants around a crumb. It seemed that everyone had the idea to meet up with friends there and Roman was seriously regretting choosing this specific store as the place for their weekly session. He should’ve just chosen Remy’s place when Logan asked for a location.

Roman scrambled to keep the conversation going. He hated when awkwardness settled in and right now, he could feel it in the air, tangible and cold. “Well, what do you play?”

“Virgil plays nine instruments,” Logan said and all three men turned towards him as he approached. “The guitar, violin, piano, saxophone, ukulele, drums, harp, clarinet, and most recently, the harmonica.”

“And the tambourine,” Virgil said. There was a warm mischievous glint in his eye as he looked up at Logan.

“That is not an instrument,” Logan retorted. “We agreed on that.”

“I don’t know; Declan’s last argument for it was _pretty_ compelling.”

Logan huffed as he set down the drink tray with four drinks. Each person made for theirs; a soy vanilla latte for Roman and black coffee with two sugars for Patton. Roman forgot what Virgil and Logan got, but he knew that if he asked Patton, the blonde would certainly know.

“ _Nine_ ?” Patton asked, putting him and Roman back into the conversation. He looked giddy and, Roman noticed with the same small pang that had been following him since they all met, _happy_. “Who plays nine instruments?”

Virgil’s cheeks pinked and he ducked his head a bit. “I, uh, had a lot of time on my hands in middle and high school,” he said. “And I’ve always found it… Calming? I don’t know.”

“That’s amazing,” Patton complimented. “That’s how I feel about writing.”

Roman didn’t miss how Virgil’s eyes lit up a bit at that statement. “You write?”

Patton rubbed his cheeks in a way that Roman knew he was blushing. Roman’s stomach clenched a bit, but he just took a sip of his latte.

“Yup! I hope to be a published author someday.”

“That’s amazing, Pat!”

Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed for a quick second, his expression falling. After a moment, he shook his head, seeming to dispel some train of thought from his mind. Patton’s smile just widened and Roman’s stomach sunk more. “Thank you!”

“Do you sing?” Roman asked suddenly. His voice felt dull, flat.

His three soulmates turned to look at him in confusion. “What?” Virgil asked.

“Logan mentioned nine instruments and not a single one was your voice. Do you sing?”

“Yeah?” Virgil replied.

“Virgil is the lead singer of his band,” Logan added. “It would be quite an awkward arrangement if he couldn’t sing.”

“Band?”

“You’re in a band?” Patton nearly shrieked. He bounced in his seat with a giggle. Roman didn’t miss the way both Virgil’s and Logan’s expressions softened. “That’s so _cool_. Roman tried to start a band once.”

Roman sputtered around his latte, turning to his boyfriend with wide eyes. His face felt dangerously warm. “We do _not_ need to tell them about that, Patton.”

Patton pouted a bit, which was cute, but wasn't going to get him out of this one. "But it's so funny," he said with a little whine.

"I, for one, would love to hear that story," Virgil said. Something in Roman's gut twisted when Virgil gave him a slow, lazy smirk. Roman wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

"No, nope," Roman shook his head rapidly. "Absolutely not."

"We should respect his privacy, Virgil, Patton," Logan said. "Nobody want their failures metaphorically aired out."

Roman made an offended noise in the back of his throat. "It was not a _failure_ ," he all but screeched. "The other bandmates and I simply had some creative differences."

Virgil hummed, quirking an eyebrow as he looked Roman over. "Was it over your fashion sense?"

What was wrong with Roman's fashion sense? He thought it looked quite handsome in red and Patton agreed. Roman crossed his arms, matching Virgil's smirk. "You're one to talk, Hot Topic."

Boom! Ha! Showed him! 

Virgil clicked his tongue. "Aw, you think I'm hot."

Roman flushed, glaring at him. He'd apparently been wrong about the sweet, shy side of him. This man was clearly a demon in disguise, an imp, a goblin! Patton's hand settled over Roman's under the table and he calmed the slightest bit.

"What kind of music does your band play?" Patton asked. His eyes sparkled with interest, the smile on his cheeks wide and genuine.

"Mostly alternative rock," Virgil responded. He leaned back in his chair. "Sometimes, depending on the venue of the gig, we'll do more acoustic stuff. We're not really picky."

"That's amazing. Do you write your own music? Or cover things?"

Virgil pinked a bit at the compliment and Logan's lips barely tipped upwards into a smile. "I write a lot of our music," he said. "We do covers most of the time though. Like Evanescence, Paramore, Skillet."

Roman bit back a laugh. Those were all hands he listened to in _middle_ school. He apparently didn't disguise his laugh good enough because Virgil swung his head around to look at him. "What's so funny, Red?"

Red? Hardly original. "You are an emo nightmare," he said.

Virgil flashed him another one if those charming smirks. "Thank you."

Roman hated that he sounded genuinely thankful. Patton laughed awkwardly, his gaze shifting between them.

"Well," Patton said, his voice a bit pitched. "I'd love to hear you play sometime."

"Oh," Logan said and Virgil paled, looking over at him sharply. "Virgil has a 'gig' on New Year's Eve."

Virgil groaned, rubbing at his face. Logan looked over at him, slightly bewildered. "Did I say something to upset you? Was my usage improper?"

"I want to be upset with you for telling them, but you actually said gig this time, so I can't be."

"That was the proper usage then?"

Virgil gave him a soft smile. "Yes, L, that was right."

"Good," Logan responded before turning back to Patton and Roman. "Would you like to attend? I could message you the details."

Virgil sunk down in his seat a bit. "You don't have to though."

Roman opened his mouth to respond when Patton exclaimed, "We'd love to!"

Roman felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest. He and Patton always spent New Year's Eve cuddled up, watching Disney movies until midnight came. They had their first _kiss_ on New Year's Eve. Had Patton forgotten? No, no, of course not.

Patton's hand landed on Roman's lap. His smile was warm and sincere and Roman felt warmth pool into his chest. "We'll watch the movies beforehand."

Logan blinked at the statement. “If you have other plans, we do not wish to impede.”

Roman wanted to exclaim that yes, they did have other plans. But when he glanced at Patton, he saw how excited he looked to hear Virgil sing. And hey, some traditions were made to be broken, right?

“No,” he said with a forced smile. “It’s fine.”

* * *

The venue for Virgil’s gig was partially outside, which in the dead of winter, was probably not the best idea. But in the crush of bodies, Roman was more than warm. Roman glanced at the crowd around them, feeling a little out of place in his faux red and white letterman jacket and white skinny jeans, but no one seemed to pay him any mind. He did notice a few people eyeing Patton and Logan with odd looks though.

He couldn’t really blame them. Logan was dressed in yet another white button up, though his tie had 2020 written across the bottom in gold lettering, and black slacks. Patton, on the other hand, was dressed in his baby blue cardigan with a floral printed polo. He at least had the foresight to wear black skinny jeans and a pair of Converse (albeit, bright pink ones).

“Logan!” a voice exclaimed from the fray and Logan turned attentively.

“Hello, Melissa,” he greeted with a firm nod.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Missy?”

Roman turned as Patton pulled his hand. Unlike them, this Missy woman blended right into the crowd. Her hair was cut close to her scalp and died a bright, electric blue. Her skin was dark brown and her eyes were a startling orange that couldn’t have been real. Contacts, most likely. She wore all black, save for her slashed hot pink tank top. Her makeup was sharp, eyeliner wings wide and lips painted a deep, almost black, red. From what Roman could immediately count, she had nine piercings.

She looked a little intimidating, honestly.

Missy flashed Roman and Patton a bright smile and Roman knew that his original impression had been completely wrong. “Who are your friends, Logan?” she asked.

Logan startled, half-turning towards them. “Of course, forgive my manners. This is Roman Carroll and Patton Blumenthal,” he gestured to each of them. “Virgil’s and my other two soulmates. Patton, Roman, this is one of Virgil’s friends, Melissa Carpenter.”

“I’m your friend too, you nerd,” Missy said and Roman couldn’t help but gape as she lightly pushed his shoulder. She turned back to Patton and Roman. “It’s Missy; Melissa is my mother.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you!” Patton said, holding out his hand.

Missy’s gaze dipped down to his hand before her eyes lit up. “Got some ink, pretty boy?”

Patton looked down at his arm, where his cardigan had ridden up slightly. He flushed and Roman laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Oh! Um, yeah,” he said as he pulled up his sleeves.

Missy took his arms from him, twisting them this way and that. “Dude, these are _terrible_!” she exclaimed and Patton’s face fell.

Roman’s grip tightened around him.

Missy seemed to notice because she looked up suddenly. Logan sighed. “She means they look wonderful,” he said with a small huff. Patton blinked over at their soulmate in confusion. “I have told you before, Melissa, ‘terrible’ is not an apt slang word in place of ‘wicked’ or ‘sick’.”

Missy grinned mischievously. “Well, it’s never going to be with that attitude!”

Patton giggled a bit into his hand and Missy looked over at him. “I like you, pretty boy,” she declared before her gaze shifted over to Roman. Roman tried not to cower under her intense stare. “I’m not sure how I feel about you, yet.”

Roman huffed out an offended sound and Patton squeezed his hand. He looked down at his soulmate, his lips set into a firm frown, but Patton just shook his head. The message was clear: “don’t do anything stupid”.

“Well, I’m going to go get us some drinks,” Missy decided before she looked back at Patton. “And you’re coming with me. I happen to know the bartender has a thing for cute blonde boys. Maybe we’ll get a discount.”

Patton flushed. “Well,” he coughed awkwardly. “I don’t know about that.”

“Nonsense. Let’s go.”

Missy grabbed his wrist and before Roman processed what was happening, she dragged him into the crowd. Logan stuck his hands into his pockets while Roman stared after them, dumbfounded. “Did… Did Patton just get kidnapped?” he asked.

“She will bring him back, likely with no broken bones,” Logan responded as he turned back to the stage. “Melissa has no sense of boundaries. ”

Roman raised an eyebrow at him before he slowly turned with him. If his soulmate said Patton would be back, he had to assume he would be. The two lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Well, uncomfortable for Roman; Logan seemed to have no problems with it. Every once in awhile, someone would wave to Logan or greet him and he would respond in turn, always with the same stoic expression.

“You seem to know a lot of people here,” Roman commented dryly.

“Yes,” Logan responded. “Virgil has brought me along to quite a few of his gigs. His band is quite popular.”

“How long have you two known each other?”

“Eight years,” Logan glanced over at him, tilting his head the slightest amount. “And you and Patton?”

Roman blinked, doing the math in his head. “Thirteen years,” he breathed. Had it really been so long?

Logan opened his mouth to ask another question when another person approached them. This time, Logan rolled his eyes a bit. Roman also noticed a hint of a smile though.

“So happy to see me, Lo?” the man asked. He had a bright yellow soulmark on his face and hair to match.

“Hello, Declan,” Logan greeted politely. “How may we help you?”

Declan’s eyes slid over to Roman for a split second before he smirked at them, his expression almost unreadable. “V sent me to move you to the front. I already found Missy and that little blonde,” he said. “You both forgot to mention how cute he is.”

Logan gestured to Roman, derailing the entire conversation. “This is Roman Carroll, the other soulmate.”

Declan gave the barest of bows, grinning up at Roman with all teeth. “Charmed. Come along now, we have all night.”

Roman glanced at Logan in confusion, but the neurosurgeon just shook his head. He took Roman by the arm, tugging him through the crowd. Roman tried not to think about the fact that Logan’s grip was stronger and firmer than he’d expected.

As soon as they broke through the front of the crowd, Patton ran up, barrelling into Roman at full force. “Oh, lordie, save me,” he said and Roman’s temper flared. Did that blue-haired woman hurt his Patton?

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, tilting up Patton’s chin to check for any marks. He didn’t _appear_ to have any broken bones.

Patton looked up at Roman with wide eyes. “She keeps using the wrong words for _everything_ , Roman. It’s horrible, truly awful. My writer heart is screaming at me.”

Roman chuckled and even Logan appeared amused by the overreaction. He pressed a kiss to Patton’s forehead and led him over to the table waiting there, cordoned off by caution tape. Missy beamed at them as Declan threw his arms over her shoulders. Roman wondered distantly if they were a “thing”, but before he could ask, music started up.

Roman turned to face the stage.

And instantly fell in love.

Roman couldn’t explain the sudden rush of emotion that came over him when he looked up at Virgil on that stage. He was only aware of the fact that he was very much blushing and that his heart was pounding in his chest. Patton, seated on his lap, practically melted back onto Roman, a soft smile on his lips. Even Logan appeared to have all of his attention dedicated to their soulmate.

When Roman was a child, his parents took him, Remy, and Remus to a musical. For Roman, that had been the moment his life’s course had been set, even as Remy and Remus groaned and moaned and fell asleep during the performance. When he saw those actors on stage, Roman realized that he had been _born_ to be on the stage.

Up until that point, he’d never felt the same way about another person.

But Virgil, with his black eyeshadow and black fingernails, belonged up there. He wasn't just born to be on the stage, he'd been created, crafted and molded to breathe life into the music. The crowd cheered around them, but when Virgil leaned into the microphone, fingers skipping across the guitar strings, they all fell uncannily silent.

Roman understood why when Virgil opened his mouth. Virgil’s voice was smooth, altogether soft and rough, rising and falling with all the right pitches and vowels. It was undeniably sexy, but also carried such raw emotion that Roman could feel tears pricking at the edges of his vision.

Virgil’s eyes dropped to his soulmates and he smirked a bit. He winked, catching the microphone stand.

Roman Carroll had never swooned before, but he definitely did it more than once during the entire set.

Way too soon, the performance came to an end. Roman found himself in a bit of a daze as he was led away from the table and out of the building. Patton was talking to someone animatedly, Logan was nodding at something, but Roman didn’t really register any of it until Virgil appeared, his guitar stuck into a case on his back. His hair was slicked back away from his face and his makeup looked smeared in some places, but in that moment, Roman had never been more attracted to a punk rocker. Virgil glanced around, looking nervous and a little uncomfortable.

Roman really, _really_ wanted to kiss that anxious look off of his face. But Patton hurried past him, grabbing Virgil’s hands in his own. “That’s was _amazing_ , Virgil!” he gushed.

Virgil blushed. “Really?”

“A wonderful performance,” Logan said as he stepped forward. “You did very well, Virgil.”

Virgil gave Logan a soft fond look that Logan returned. “Thanks,” he said warmly.

“You’re welcome.”

Virgil bit down on his lip, looking up at Roman with that nervous look. He shuffled in place, dipping his head. “What’d you think, Red?” he asked quietly.

Roman smiled, beamed really. “Truly an emo nightmare.”

Virgil’s small laugh was the last piece of the puzzle. And when Virgil turned that small half-smile on all of them, Roman knew that he had fallen so hard and fast for Virgil that he'd tilted the world on its axis.

After all, “slow” wasn’t really Roman’s thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm not that great at witty banter, so I definitely took some from actual Sanders Sides, but anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> The next one is Logan's! Summary: Falling is painful.


	12. logan sanders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling is painful (and sudden)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of drugs, implied/referenced drunkenness, use of sleeping medication, implied/referenced sexual content, implied/referenced insomnia

Taking things slow. That was exactly what Logan and Virgil did.

On the way back from the hospital, Logan stole glances over at Virgil, his thoughts swirling through his mind. Virgil stared out of the window, lips pressed in a firm line, and Logan was pretty sure he was grinding his teeth. He'd barely said two sentences since they'd met Patton and Roman punched him.

It was only when Logan was unlocking the door to their house that Virgil spoke.

"You don't…" Virgil exhaled and cleared his throat. "You don't have to stay home."

Logan's chest tightened. He pushed open the door and ushered Virgil in, out of the cold. He removed his jacket as Virgil lingered in the hall, looking like a stranger in their own home.

"Nonsense," Logan said, keeping his voice low and soft. He stepped into Virgil's space and started to unbutton his coat. A bit of the tension in Virgil's shoulders released. "You have not had a panic attack like that in months. I know it is going to take you a few days to recover completely."

Logan reached up and brushed back some of the hair in Virgil's face. Virgil leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. "I'm sorry," he said and his voice cracked. "I ruined your Christmas."

"Falsehood," Logan replied sternly and Virgil opened his eyes to look up at him. He held Virgil's dark gaze. "Everything is fine, Virgil. Please refrain from assuming otherwise."

"Yeah," Virgil nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Guys?"

Logan turned as Adelaide rounded the corner, her steps cautious. Adelaide was the complete opposite of her older brother. With her blonde hair and gray eyes, she resembled no one in her family. She also towered over both Logan and Virgil.

Adelaide took one look at her rattled brother and her caution was thrown to the wind. Logan noticed that her eyes flickered up to his now white cheek for the briefest second. "Oh,  _ Virge _ ," she muttered and Logan stepped aside as she lurched forward to wrap her arms around Virgil.

Virgil held onto her tightly. Logan could hear the telltale shake of his exhales that meant he was crying. Logan turned and walked into the kitchen to make Virgil something to drink.

A few moments later, Virgil and Adelaide joined him. Adelaide sat down at the breakfast bar while Virgil hoisted himself onto the counter. Logan, for once, did not tell him to get down. Instead, he handed him a mug of chamomile tea and two sleeping pills.

"L," Virgil started, but Logan just shook his head. He knew that Virgil was going to protest that he had to work the next day, that the pills made him groggy for most of the day afterwards.

"You are calling off work tomorrow," Logan said with a finality that left no room for argument.

Logan also knew that Virgil would not be able to handle eight hours straight of social interaction the next day. Not after this. Especially when coworkers and regulars would bombard him with questions about the now white soulmark on his face.

"But I-"

"I will call Pamela and let her know, Virgil," Logan said. "Please, you need to rest now."

After a moment, Virgil gave a slow nod and took the pills before quietly excusing himself to go to bed. Virgil paused at the threshold between the kitchen and living room. "You'll let me know if Roman calls about Patton?" he asked.

"Yes," Logan replied. "Though I assure you once again that Patton is fine."

Virgil gave a single firm nod.

Logan sighed when he was gone, rubbing at his face underneath his glasses.

"Long night?" Adelaide asked.

Logan glanced over at the clock on the stove. It was three in the morning. If he had decided to go ahead with the flight, he would have been on a plane in two hours. He nodded before handing Adelaide another cup of tea.

"So," she said after she took a sip. "The other two soulmates, huh?"

Logan should have answered her. Should have provided the story of how the night went. Instead, he asked the question that had been plaguing him since they spoke with Roman. 

"Do you think Virgil and I have been taking things too slow?"

Adelaide blinked. She knew how Virgil and Logan felt about each other; of course she did,  _ everyone  _ did. And perhaps it had been a topic of conversation at one point or another. At one point, it had been  _ the _ topic of conversation because Adelaide thought that Virgil and Logan were two non-soulmates in love. And, at the time, it had been a source of inspiration for her and Kimber.

She admitted to being a little hurt when Virgil came clean about having three soulmates. But she forgave her older brother and Logan pretty quickly. After all, she understood what it meant to keep a secret like that.

So yes, Adelaide knew that Logan loved Virgil. And she lived with them, so she knew exactly how much they mutually pined. Logan knew that she teased Virgil about it, just like Thomas teased Logan. She had also told him, more than once, that he should just come clean. That Virgil would never admit to it first, despite what Declan claimed. 

Logan truly hated conflicting advice.

"No," Adelaide said after a moment. "Why do you ask?"

Logan tapped his fingers together before placing both of his hands on the counter. Adelaide took another slow sip of her tea, patient. Logan released a slow exhale. "Virgil and I are… Unconventional by romantic soulmate standards. I have- I have always  _ known _ that, on a surface level, but meeting the other two… I guess I never really thought about how unusual it is. I have always been content to think that this is just how our relationship works and not consider if this is how it  _ should  _ work."

"Why do you think it's unusual?"

Logan gave a small shrug. "By this point, we should already be married or at least engaged. And we should have a pet together or a house. Just something solid, something physical that shows our commitment. Instead, tonight is the first time I have ever told him I love him.”

“Wait,” Adelaide held up her hands, her eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape. “You  _ confessed _ tonight?”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her incredulously. “I- Yes, we discussed this earlier. You double checked my notes on the matter.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” Adelaide exclaimed. “You’ve tried so many times, I assumed that this was just another failed attempt. That maybe the new soulmates interrupted it or something.”

“No, I managed to finish the speech. It was when we were about to kiss that we were interrupted.”

“Ew,” Adelaide shook her head and stuck out her tongue. “Please, spare me the details.”

“If you wish for me to spare the details, then why did you ask for them?” he asked, confused.

Adelaide chuckled and shook her head. She looked back at him. “Whatever. Are the other two married?”

Logan thought back, trying to recall if he had seen a ring on either of their fingers. After a moment, he shook his head. “No, I don’t believe so.”

“Are they together?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. He saw them before and after the show, close in a way that Logan and Virgil were not. In a way that Thomas and Kris were. “But I do not see why that is relevant to Virgil and me.”

Adelaide sighed with a small eye roll. “Logan, there is nothing unconventional about your relationship with Virgil.”

“No-”

“Let me finish,” she said and Logan fell silent. “You can’t be unconventional because there is no precedent set for you four. You are a unique occurence, one that has no social cues or standards to follow.”

“I see.”

“Besides,” Adelaide stood from her seat, taking her half-full mug with her. “Conventional is stupid; the world and society is ever-changing. And if taking it slow is what you need to do, then do it. Fuck what everyone else thinks.”

With that, Adelaide offered him a quick wave and a good night. 

Logan eased himself down into a chair with his own cup of tea, anything to calm his nerves. When he glanced down at his phone, he saw a text from Thomas. He clicked on it. It was just a picture of him and Kris at the airport, looking exhausted.  **_Hope Virge feels better_ ** was captioned underneath it. Logan allowed himself a small smile. He texted them back to have a safe flight before leaning back with his cup.

His eyes settled on the paintings hanging on the walls, all of them done by Virgil. He told Logan once that he stopped painting at his dads’ house because every rogue splash on his skin led to panic. Thinking that he had another soulmark, another deviation. That day, Logan bought him a small watercolor kit and couple of canvases. They had to return to the store later to exchange the canvas for watercolor paper, but Virgil had still been immensely grateful.

Now, their home was covered in his paintings. 

Virgil lived in every crack of the townhouse, from the paintings to the various instruments in the living room. Logan coexisted with him, his Star Wars collection on the bookshelf in the living room alongside his textbooks, a neuroimage of Logan’s brain above the TV. A mug with Beehtoven’s face sat in the sink, next to Logan’s periodic table mug and Virgil’s Coco Puffs were in the pantry alongside Logan’s corn flakes. Black boots next to brown oxfords in the entrance hall; baggy hoodies next to sensible jackets in the coat closet.

Adelaide was right. Of course, she was right. Taking it slow was what Logan and Virgil needed. It shaped their relationship into the easy lifestyle it was now; into the loving romantic relationship Logan hoped it would become.

After a few minutes, Logan switched off the light and climbed the stairs. He paused by Virgil’s door before pushing it open just a crack. Virgil was already out cold. Half of his head was hidden underneath a pillow and his snores were light enough that Logan might have mistaken it for normal breathing. Logan smiled softly. He closed the door and headed to his own room.

He knew that Adelaide was right, but he also knew that nothing happened the same way twice.

* * *

Logan was not sure what came over him.

They left Virgil’s New Year’s Eve performance to head to another location for the afterparty. An afterparty that would likely involve alcohol and any variation of drugs. The two of them spent most of the night corralling Roman and Patton away from the seedier parts of the party. It turned out to be quite a chore.

Eventually, they all relocated to the roof and Logan was reminded of the first party he attended with Virgil.

Outside, the air was crisp and cold. Missy and Declan immediately beelined for a secluded corner of the roof, likely to make out. Logan once asked them what their relationship status was and all he received in return was some vague answer about the fleeting nature of humanity.

“It’s chilly out here,” Patton said with a small, slightly tipsy giggle.

He bumped up against Logan, the movement gentle and affectionate. Logan was surprised to find he didn’t mind. His gaze shifted over to Roman, who’d been stealing glances at Virgil most of the night. He already had that besotted look he shared with Patton on his face. Logan could not blame him; he had fallen for Virgil faster than he thought possible, even if it took him this long to act on any of those feelings.

They were all a little drunk, a little airy. Logan slipped his hand into Virgil’s and Virgil laced their fingers together. He looked over at Logan with a soft, shy look that made Logan feel warm despite the cold air.

Patton and Roman tripped over each other, a giggly mess as they tried to lay out to the blanket they borrowed from the party below. Virgil eventually pulled away to help them, setting down various objects on top of it to stop it from blowing away. Logan would not have been surprised if Virgil was the most sober of all of them.

It wasn’t long before they were all sat on the blanket. Well, Patton and Roman laid down, tangled together as they stared up at the night sky. Logan briefly wished that he was in Redmond, where he could see the stars, but the thought disappeared as soon as Virgil leaned his back against Logan’s.

Virgil already had his acoustic guitar out, tuning it with small hums. Logan closed his eyes as he started a small song about snow. Logan was surprised when Roman’s voice joined in and then, more hesitantly, Patton’s high tenor.

_ Here we are _

_ Wasting our chances for the last time _

_ Oh, and when we go I'll try not to be so slow _

_ Skeletons, skeletons, what do we have here _

_ Hiding from the mirror _

_ Say it once, say it twice, try to be nice _

_ Well, let's not lose ourselves _

Logan bit down on his bottom lip as he listened to his soulmates sing an unfamiliar song around him. His head felt airy, his mind hazy, but grounded. He felt happy.

When the song ended, Patton let out a small squeal and Logan opened his eyes. “One minute to midnight!” Patton exclaimed, showing everyone his phone (the lockscreen had a picture of him kissing Roman’s cheek).

Below them, the city began to count. Virgil crawled forward to sit next to Logan. Patton and Roman joined in with the countdown and when they noticed that Logan and Virgil weren’t, they nudged them. They started reluctantly, sharing a slightly exasperated look.

“Five, four, three, two-”

Before the countdown even finished, Roman tugged Patton forward. Logan and Virgil turned away awkwardly as they proceeded to more or less make out. It filled Logan’s stomach with an odd, tingly feeling that was not entirely unwelcome.

“One!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan found Virgil staring at him.

He met his gaze, which looked almost black in the dim nightlight. The world seemed to slow. Logan reached forward, his hand brushing against Virgil’s cheek. Virgil smiled softly as he leaned into the touch. Logan moved forward.

He kissed Virgil. Slow, explorative. Virgil’s hands came up to cup Logan’s face, fingers snaking into his hair. Logan felt as though his chest might burst with how happy he was. Somewhere in the background, he was distantly aware of the sound of fireworks, of cheering. But all he could think about was getting closer to Virgil, about kissing Virgil more.

Eventually, Virgil pulled back and Logan heaved in a deep, ragged breath. He opened his eyes, only to find a hazy fog on his glasses. Before he could fix them, Virgil plucked them off of his face and started wiping them off on his coat. Logan didn’t really think. He just reached for the front of Virgil’s coat and pulled him into another kiss. This one was chaste and sweet and when he pulled back, Virgil placed his glasses back on his face.

Virgil’s face was flushed, his lips slightly parted and his hair completely mussed up. He had never looked more handsome.

“Happy New Year,” Virgil said softly.

“Happy New Year!” Roman cheered.

Logan and Virgil looked over at their other two soulmates, startled. Virgil looked completely mortified, as if he’d forgotten they were there, and Logan could feel his own face burning. He had, in fact, forgotten they were there.

Patton just giggled, “Happy New Year, my soulmates.”

They all turned to Logan, expectant. Logan let out a nervous huff of a laugh with a roll of his eyes. “Happy New Year.”

When Logan and Virgil got home, already tangled together half-way through the door, they found it be a happy new year indeed. 

* * *

Logan’s fingers twitched nervously in his pockets as he walked down to the lobby of the hospital. He was not sure why he was called down there. He could not really think of any reasons why he would be called away from work. But he went anyways, because it might be an emergency.

He was not expecting to see Patton standing at the information desk. The short blonde bounced back and forth of his heels, holding two cups of coffee, his blue eyes skipping around the room with an almost childlike curiosity. When his gaze landed on Logan, he beamed and something fluttered in Logan’s chest.

“Patton,” he greeted as he approached. “What are you doing here?”

Patton unceremoniously thrust one of the coffee cups into Logan’s hands. Logan took it and cautiously took a sip, surprised to find that it was his usual (a black americano with an extra shot). Patton took a sip of his own coffee, watching him expectantly. Logan allowed the barest hint of a smile and Patton grinned.

“I realized that the hospital isn’t too far from the coffeeshop and Virge told me this is when you usually take your break, so...” he petered off, flushing a bright pink. “Sorry, I know it’s super unexpected.”

Logan’s heart pounded a bit faster. “It is quite alright,” he said after a moment. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Oh!” Patton smiled again. “It’s not a big deal; I just got off of work.”

Logan glanced down at his watch. It was only 2PM. “You get off this early?”

Patton nodded. “I open the store,” he explained. “It’s nice to have most of the day off.”

“You must have a strict sleeping schedule.”

Logan wanted to smack himself in the face. What kind of person asked about sleeping schedules? But he managed to keep his expression neutral. Patton just shook his head, apparently unbothered by the unusual question. “I have trouble sleeping sometimes,” he tapped the side of his head. “Too many ideas rattling around in the ole noggin.”

Logan cracked a small smile before he noticed the person behind the information desk watching them. He grabbed Patton’s elbow. “How about we go outside and talk?” he asked.

Patton nodded excitedly, the same bright smile on his face. “How’s your day going?” he asked as they walked over to one of the benches not occupied by snow in the garden.

It was still very cold outside, so Logan was not surprised to find no one else wandering around outside. It also meant that they were alone, Logan realized. 

If Logan was religious, he might have thought Patton looked angelic in the white landscape around them. Snow fell from the sky, a light fluttering of it that settled on Patton’s curls and his eyelashes underneath his glasses. He was wearing a thick pale yellow coat with a brown jumper and plain skinny jeans. He kept his gloved hands curled around his coffee cup.

Logan hoped that Patton mistook the flush on his cheeks for him being chilled.

“So,” Patton asked once they settled. “Any particular reason you chose neurosurgery?”

Logan knew that it was meant to be conversational, but he stiffened just the slightest amount. Patton seemed to notice because he glanced over at him and smiled gently. “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me.”

His tone was so genuine, so kind, that Logan almost wanted to tell him. Instead, he asked the question that had been in his head for the past couple of weeks. “Are you and Roman married?”

Patton laughed, the sound so light and airy that Logan could have mistaken it for ringing bells. “No, no,” he responded after a moment. “Not yet anyways.”

Logan looked over at him. “Is there…” he paused and looked down at the coffee in his lap. Virgil always told him he tended to be nosy.

“Any reason why?” Patton finished for him and Logan nodded once. “To be honest, we were kinda waiting for- Well, for you and Virgil.”

“That is illogical,” Logan said. Patton’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and it occurred to Logan that he had never seen such an expressive face. “What I mean is: what would happen if Virgil and I wanted to be platonic? Then you would have wasted your time.”

“Hardly,” Patton placed a hand on Logan’s knee. Logan did not jerk away. “Even if we were just best friends, we still wanted to wait to have two best men.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to be confused. He had only known Patton for a few weeks, but he got the distinct notion that Patton was one of those rare selfless people. He imagined people lined up to be the best man at his wedding, perhaps put in applications to be his best friend. “Did you not have someone else in mind?” he asked.

Patton’s expression fell the slightest bit as he took another sip of his coffee. He shook his head after a minute. “No, not really,” he admitted, his voice so quiet that Logan almost didn’t hear him over the sounds of the city around them. 

“Can you-” Logan hesitated. “Elaborate?”

Patton nodded, but didn’t speak for several moments. When he did, his voice sounded tight. “Until we moved here, I didn’t really have many friends,” he said. “I still don’t honestly; they’re mostly Roman’s friends.”

He dabbed at the corners of his eyes with a small laugh. “But I can’t really complain. At least I have people in my life that care about me, like my mom and the twins and Mallory. And Roman and his family, of course. And… Other people...”

But he was still lonely. Logan understood that, perhaps better than most. He, too, had people that cared about him. Virgil, Thomas and Nana, Kris, Adelaide, even Declan and Missy. But he did not have very many people he could just consider “friends”. Even here, at the hospital, most of his coworkers steered clear of him and his workaholic tendencies. Or perhaps it was his personality; he understood that some people struggled to accept it.

“I understand,” he said after a moment. Patton looked over at him in surprise before he smiled warmly. Logan could feel his insides flopping about as if trying to rearrange themselves.

“Well, we have each other now too,” Patton said. “The four musketeers!”

“That is inaccurate,” Logan replied and Patton blinked at him. “We are more like the four seasons. Or perhaps a comparison Virgil would lean towards: the Beatles. I am not familiar with the Beatles’ personalities, so I cannot accurately decide who is who, but-”

Logan broke off abruptly when Patton wrapped his arms around him. He froze, a normal reaction, but after a moment, he hugged him back, not a normal reaction. They stayed like that for a few moments until Logan’s phone went off. Patton pulled back. “Sorry,” Patton said with a small, wet laugh. “I’ve been told I can be a bit over affectionate.”

“It is…” Logan cleared his throat as he reached for his phone. “It is fine.”

He turned off his alarm and looked back at Patton, who was already standing. “See you later?” Patton asked.

Logan nodded and stood. “Yes,” he said. “Perhaps we can all meet up for dinner in the near future?”

Patton caught Logan’s hand in his own, smile bright and contagious. “That sounds wonderful,” he said, his tone genuine. Logan was distantly aware that his chest hurt the slightest bit. “Roman could cook.”

“Or Virgil could,” Logan countered.

Patton gasped dramatically and hopped once in place. An amused half-smile slipped onto Logan’s face. “They could have a  _ cookoff _ ,” Patton said dramatically, his head tilted. Hr looked so impossibly ethereal in the winter afternoon.

Logan must have still been a little bit drunk from New Year’s because he reached out, hand slipping under Patton’s chin. Patton stilled, his eyes widening as Logan tilted his head up. “That would be entertaining,” Logan said before he leaned down. 

He pressed a brief, gentle kiss to Patton’s forehead. Logan felt his heart flutter in his chest again and, yes, that was the feeling he had only ever associated with Virgil. It was hot and a little painful, but overall made Logan feel as if his feet would lift off the ground and carry him away.

Logan pulled away and Patton looked up at him with another exuberant grin, his cheeks once again flushed a deep red.

Logan was sure it was not love, not yet. But he knew, somewhere deep within him, that he was already falling. Patton squeezed his hand, “Have a good day.”

“You as well,” Logan said. He turned to go before he whirled back around. “And thank you for the coffee, truly. If you… Want to do it again, feel free to.”

Patton nodded excitedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Indeed,” Logan bobbed his head once. “Tomorrow.”

And, he distantly hoped, everyday after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot, woot. Logan and Virgil kissed and Logan is falling in love with a certain cinnamon roll.
> 
> The song used is: Snow by Ricky Montgomery
> 
> Next chapter is Virgil's! Summary: The story of a boy named Storm.


	13. virgil alvarado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of a boy named Storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a warning, this chapter deals with some pretty heavy topics such as self-harm, suicide, minor character death, anxiety, and implied/mentioned misuse of prescription drugs. While none of it is shown explicitly, it is implied and mentioned. I will leave a summary at the bottom of the chapter for those that wish to skip it. You have been forewarned.
> 
> Also, this chapter jumps a lot between flashback and present time. I've never done something in this format, so I hope it goes well. Thanks! Hope you enjoy.

**STORMCLOUD** _is online…_

**Hey, Pattycake.**

**_Storm! I was just thinking about you!_ **

**Really?**

**_Yeah. I have this new poem if you want to check it out._ **

**Hell yeah! Send it over!**

* * *

Virgil watched Patton from across the table as he gnawed on the inside of his cheek. Patton rambled on and on about all of his regulars at work, his face alight with joy. About some lady that always bought two dozen cookies when she came in. About the older gentleman that got tea for his wife. About the couple that met when they both reached for a caramel latte.

Every once in awhile, Roman or Logan added their own input; Virgil just stared.

The night had been admittedly great. According to the judges (Patton and Logan), Roman's tacos were less good than Virgil's, though Virgil gave the credit to his Latino blood. Virgil conceded that Roman’s pico de gallo was incredible and Logan had to rinse his mouth out with milk because  _ all _ of the salsa had been too spicy.

Virgil wasn’t sure if he’d ever laughed this much before. Or seen Logan smile this much.

Now they all sat at the table, digging into Patton’s incredible lemon cake and sharing stories. Virgil had no complaints. None at all. But the coincidences appeared to be piling up and Virgil wondered if soon, he would drown under the weight of them.

Pat. Patton. Patton wrote. Pat wrote. Patton was a barista. Pat was a barista. Patton had a mom and two siblings. Pat had a mom and two siblings.

Patton had three soulmates. Pat had three soulmates.

A hand settled on Virgil's knee and he glanced over at Logan. Ever since they confessed to each other, the small affectionate touches had become more common. Holding hands in public, hands on legs, on arms, on hands. Small kisses shared in the hall as they passed each other, before they left for work, in the mornings, the afternoons, the evenings. They fell into the routine so easily, without embarrassment or shyness, as if they’d been together for years. Virgil’s heart still skipped a beat with every subtle touch.

The question in Logan’s brown eyes was clear: all good?

Virgil gave Logan the barest of nods and Logan withdrew his hand. Patton, however, glanced between them, concern ebbing in between the creases of his eyebrows. "Everything okay, Virge?"

"Oh, um," Virgil laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. A lie came to the tip of his tongue, or perhaps a half-truth. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep last night is all."

"Wonder why that is," Roman said with a smirk and a wink over in Logan's direction.

Logan looked away sharply, but Virgil could see the blush on his cheeks. " _ I _ was at the hospital last night."

Virgil ducked his head to hide his own reddening cheeks. "I just couldn't sleep," he muttered. Though he had to admit, it had become harder sleeping alone. Most nights were fine; he was at work or Logan was home, but last night, Logan’s queen-sized bed seemed too small.

"Are you okay?" Patton asked with the slightest tilt of his head.

No. Maybe. He didn't know. "I just got a bad case of insomnia,” he took another bite of his cake slice to punctuate his words. “Nothing to worry about."

"Oh!" Patton gave him a warm smile that made something in Virgil's stomach twist. "I have this really amazing tea that helps me sleep, if you want to try it. It works for me almost every time."

"It's not drugged," Roman added quickly, as if that was in question.

Patton looked over at him, completely offended, his mouth wide and his hand pressed to his heart. "How could my dear prince accuse me of drug dealing!"

Virgil could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He set his fork down, suddenly feeling very, very faint. Prince. Did he just call Roman  _ prince _ ?

* * *

**_Hey…_ **

**Thank god.**

**_Yeah._ **

**Are you okay? Are you safe?**

**_Yeah._ **

**Are you hurt?**

**_A bit._ **

**Do you want to talk about it?**

**_No._ **

**_…_ **

**_…_ **

**_Not yet._ **

* * *

Virgil's skin crawled, an unfixable itch clawing across his skin. He felt  _ wrong _ . Very wrong. He needed to leave. Needed to stand up and go. Needed to move. Needed to speak. Needed to-

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. Patton.

* * *

**_I just don't think I can do it anymore._ **

**Why?**

**_I'm so unhappy. All the time._ **

**You won't always be.**

**_You can't know that._ **

**People love you and care about you. I care about you. I need you.**

**_You won't always._ **

**Yes. I will.**

* * *

Oh god, was he breathing? Was he breathing? He wasn’t breathing? Breathe? Breathe?

A hand settled over Virgil's and he flinched back. His back hit something hard, something cold. Someone. Someone was saying. Saying a name? Whose name? His name?

Patton's name. Pat. Roman called him Pat. Virgil called him Pat. His name was Patton. Of course… But.

* * *

**Help.**

**_What? Are you okay?_ **

**I… He… My friend died.**

**_I'm so sorry._ **

**He killed himself. I didn't**

**If I'd known**

**_It's not your fault._ **

**I should've seen it.**

**_It's not your fault._ **

**I should've known**

**_It's not your fault._ **

**Then why do I feel so guilty?**

* * *

Voices talking over voices talking over voices. Virgil curled into himself, hands over his ears. This wasn't- It couldn't be-

Maybe, perhaps somewhere, he'd distantly hoped. But this wasn't- Pat couldn't be-

* * *

**I did it again.**

**I'm sorry.**

**I know I said I wouldn't.**

**_Bandaged up?_ **

**Yes.**

**_Disinfected?_ **

**Yes.**

**_Safer state of mind?_ **

**I think so.**

* * *

Patton.

Pat was Patton.

* * *

**_Does anybody know?_ **

**No. Only you.**

* * *

Pat was Virgil's soulmate.

* * *

**_You awake?_ **

**Thank god.**

**Ive been textin u. i tried to call. I how could**

**Are you okay?**

**_I didn't do it._ **

**I know.**

**_I wanted to._ **

**What stopped you?**

**I'm sorry. That was dumb.**

**Please respond.**

**Pat, please respond.**

**Pat!**

**Pat!**

**Pat**

**_Prince found me_ **

**_Before I finished tearing everything up._ **

**_I'm okay now._ **

**_Really._ **

**Are you lying?**

**_…_ **

**_…_ **

**_…_ **

**_Yes._ **

* * *

"Virgil, Virgil, Virgil. Breathe with me! Breathe with me."

He couldn't move away. Virgil was distantly aware of his palms being pressed against something solid. Something moving. A chest. Up and down. Breathing. 4. 7. 8. 4. 7. 8. 4. 7. 8.

"In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. Good," the hands released him, but Virgil didn't pull away. "In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight."

It was a long, long time before Virgil breathing evened out. And even longer before he became aware of Logan and Roman staring at him, petrified with wide eyes.

* * *

**Does he know?**

**_No. No one knows but you._ **

**_I'm sorry_ **

**Don't be.**

**_I'm so sorry._ **

**Don't be.**

**_You must hate me now. I was going to leave you just like Oliver_ **

**I could never hate you. I care about you, Pat. I always will.**

**…**

**…**

**…**

**_I love you, Storm_ **

**I love you too.**

* * *

Patton sat in front of him, a look of absolute relief on his face. He pulled back away from Virgil and offered him a shaky smile. Virgil just stared at him, at his blue eyes and curly hair. At the freckles dotting his nose, the sheen glazing over his eyes.

At the gentle, soft smile on his face. At Virgil’s hands settled on his chest.

Virgil yanked his hands away and slammed them down onto the cold tile. Patton stayed where he was, still going through the breathing exercises. Virgil’s chest rose and fell in time with his.

A deep silence permeated the kitchen, cut through only with Virgil’s own ragged breathing. Virgil cast a slow, wary glance around the room. They all sat on the floor; Logan and Roman leaning up against the fridge and cabinets and Patton and Virgil seated next to the table. Virgil’s chair was knocked over and it appeared that no one had tried to right it.

Virgil glanced down at his sleeve, at his arm where he’d started to scratch. Before Patton stopped him.

“Good?” Patton asked, his voice whisper soft, at the same level of someone approaching a spooked animal.

Virgil let out a shaky exhale and nodded once.

Patton held out his hand. After a moment, Virgil took it. “Safer state of mind?” Patton asked.

Virgil’s eyes burned as he let out a small gasp and nodded. It was the right question. Of course it was.

Virgil buried his face in his hands, a small sob escaping him. A hand settled on his shoulder and he looked over at Logan, hovering just far enough to not crowd Virgil. Roman, after a second, place a hand between Virgil’s shoulder blades. Virgil leaned back into their touches, squeezed Patton’s hand, and crumbled.

* * *

“I’m fine, really,” Virgil said, his voice tight and laced with exhaustion.

He leaned more into Logan as the two of them stood just outside of Roman and Patton’s apartment building. Patton curled into Roman’s side, the sleeves of his cute cat hoodie pulled over his hands, and Roman held onto him tightly. They both looked as exhausted as Virgil felt.

It was approaching ten and the past two hours had been spent on the floor, comforting Virgil. He should feel guilty about it— about ruining their plans to play Scrabble— but he honestly just felt grateful.

When he was younger, before Declan, before even Pattycake, Virgil had been left to deal with his anxiety on his own. Curled into corners, sobbing and pulling at his hair, scratching up his arms and legs. Sometimes, it became too much. Sometimes, he woke up several minutes later with no recollection of the event.

He smiled at Roman and Patton, weak and shaky, but genuine enough, and tightened his grip on Logan’s hand. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Of course, Panic at the Everywhere,” Roman said before freezing. He buried his face in his hands. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Patton gave him a gentle shove and Logan made a disapproving hum, but Virgil just barked out a short laugh. He stepped forward, startling Logan. Using the burst of endorphins, he tugged both Patton and Roman into a hug. It was short and awkward, but when he pulled away, they were both grinning at him.

“Good night,” Virgil said and shuffled back to Logan, who gave him a small smile before lacing their fingers together again.

“Good night!” Patton said with a wave and Roman echoed the sentiment. Neither of them went back inside until Virgil and Logan climbed into the cab.

When they were in, Virgil leaned his head against Logan’s shoulder and played with his fingers. Logan gave the driver their address before smoothing back some of Virgil’s hair. Virgil hummed.

“Are you actually alright?” Logan asked. Virgil waited for him to ask what happened, but he didn’t.

“I-” Virgil’s mouth snapped closed and he chewed on his words. “I don’t know, L.”

Logan nodded slowly. He pressed a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I love you, Virgil.”

Virgil craned his head up to kiss Logan. Quick, chaste. Still sent his heart aflutter. “I love you too, L.”

* * *

_ Bean Queen _ was a lot less busy around eleven in the morning than Virgil expected it to be. His plan had been to come in, to have a few minutes to prepare himself, and watch the customers. Perhaps slip into the bathroom and practice the speech he’d spent most of the past few days composing.

But his plans were thrown out the window when he noticed Patton leaning against the counter. His brows were pinched in concentration and he bit down on his lip. He scribbled something in a notebook, using a sparkly purple gel pen. He looked smaller than usual in his blue and white striped sweater, the apron on him a tad too big, his curly hair pushed back with a pink headband. His sleeves were rolled up, his tattoos on full display.

Virgil knew what they were now and what most of them meant. They spent a portion of New Year’s Eve discussing them with each other while Roman and Logan (bizarrely) debated the historical inaccuracies of Hamilton. 

The sunflowers on his wrist were for his mom, her favorite flower. The apple on his forearm was the one he shared with Roman, a tribute to Snow White, the first Disney movie they watched with each other. Roman’s name was on his other arm, written into the stem of his birth flower, a daffodil. When Virgil asked about the space on either side of Roman’s flower, Patton admitted that he wanted to do the same with Virgil and Logan’s names.

There was only one customer in the entire coffeeshop, a woman hunched over a laptop, her hair dyed a bright green color. She looked up briefly when Virgil entered before her gaze flickered back down to her screen.

Virgil took a step forward and his stomach tightened painfully. He let out a slow exhale. He needed to stay calm.

Patton raised his head as he approached, adjusting his glasses. “Hi, welcome-” Patton froze, his smile going from sharp and professional to fond and bright in half a second. “Heya, Virge! What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Virgil could’ve lied. Claimed he swung by to see Logan and the hospital down the street and decided to stop in. But Virgil knew that Patton would see Logan later after he got off. That Logan would confirm that he did not, in fact, see Virgil. Virgil inhaled. Exhaled.

Patton’s expression dipped into one of concern, his smile still holding. “You okay? Do you need to sit down?”

Virgil almost shook his head before he backtracked and nodded. This might be easier sitting down. Or at least give him a moment to recollect his thoughts. “Can we…” Virgil’s eyes drifted to one of the open two-person tables.

It took a moment, but once the signal clicked, Patton lit up. He started untying his apron as he pushed open the door to the backroom. “Going on lunch, Remy!” he shouted.

“Okay, babe!” Remy’s voice carried out and Virgil heard a chair scrape against tile.

Patton hurried around the corner as Virgil mechanically sat down. He started to doubt for the millionth time if this was a good idea. Patton dropped into the seat with a huff. “I haven’t sat down in  _ ages _ ,” he whined before smiling again. “What’d you need, hun?”

Virgil closed his eyes, running through his speech. He’d apologize for ruining dinner, explain his anxiety, and eventually ask if Patton was indeed his online friend, Pattycake.

All that came out was: “I know you’re Pattycake.”

Patton’s smile flickered for the briefest moment. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Remy leaning back against one of the counters before standing.

Virgil stared up at him, breath hitching. Was Patton going to run away? Swear to never speak with Virgil again? Deny the claim outright?

Virgil couldn’t blame him.

Friend or not, Pattycake had always seemed like a distant, disconnected thread in Virgil’s real life. Maybe that was why it was easier to confide in them. To tell them all of the truths that no one else, not even Declan or Logan or Adelaide, knew. 

He assumed it was the same for Patton. He assumed that, to Patton, Stormcloud was more of figure than a person. A box on the internet to spill his heart to. It was scary when that box became a person.

It would hurt if Patton ran away, of course it would, but Virgil would understand.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Patton said instead, his voice strained.

Virgil nodded minutely. He followed Patton out of the cafe and off of the  _ Bean Queen’ _ s patio. Around them, the city bustled despite the freezing weather. New York City truly never stopped moving. Virgil burrowed deeper into his coat before noticing that Patton was rolling down the sleeves of his jumper.

He was already taking off his jumper when he asked, “Want my coat?”

Patton looked over at him, startled, but already shivering a bit. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

Virgil shrugged, “I’ve got a hoodie on.”

He draped the coat around Patton’s shoulders. Patton watched Virgil for a second before slipping into it. Virgil watched with a soft, fond expression as his blonde soulmate brought the edge up and sniffed it. “It smells like cinnamon.”

Virgil flushed and looked away as they started walking. “I spilled some cinnamon tea on it this morning.”

“This tea should be a cologne,” Patton declared with another sniff. He smiled at Virgil. “Thank you, Storm.”

Virgil’s heart seized in his chest and he forced himself to exhale. No one ever actually called him that aloud. When he chose STORMCLOUD, it’d been a joke, a play on his dads’ nickname “little cloud”. It was probably the edgiest preteen username he could’ve come up with.

He liked hearing it spoken.

They walked in silence for a few seconds before Patton looked over at him, his expression contemplative. “How long have you known?” Patton asked.

It was a reasonable question. They’d known each other for about three weeks now. Virgil had slipped into the coffeeshop more than once to talk and get some more of that amazing lavender tea. They spent New Year’s Eve together. Patton, Logan, and Virgil all went to see Roman’s final night together. Roman and Patton showed up at the bar once with some of their friends.

They were all moving at a much faster pace then Virgil thought capable.

“I had my suspicions,” Virgil responded, his words slow and thought out. His speech had been abandoned the moment he told Patton the truth. “But I didn’t really know until you called Roman ‘your prince’.”

Patton’s smile faltered and he looked away. “Is that why you had a panic attack?”

“Yes,” Virgil said, his voice small and strangled. “And then afterwards you asked me if I was in a ‘safer state of mind’ and I knew without a doubt it was you.”

Tears stung Virgil’s eyes again and he pressed his palms against his eyes. Without warning, Patton pulled him to a stop and yanked Virgil into a crushing hug, heedless of the crowd around them. Virgil returned it reluctantly until he heard Patton’s breath shudder. Virgil’s grip tightened as he buried his face into Patton’s curls.

Virgil didn’t know how long they stayed like that. He didn’t care. When they finally pulled back, Patton’s eyes were misty, tears streaked down his face. He pushed up his glasses and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hand. Virgil smiled when Patton let out a small hiccup.

“You know,” Patton said after a long moment. “I always kinda hoped that Storm was one of my soulmates. I didn’t… I didn’t think it’d actually happen.”

“Same,” Virgil responded honestly. “Are you a little scared too?”

Patton let out a small, trembling laugh. “Terrified.”

Virgil raised his hands before hesitating. Patton looked down at them, at the fingerless gloves. After a moment, he laced their fingers together, his head bowed. “So your dads,” Patton started quietly. Virgil stilled. “And all of the stuff we talked about.”

“Yeah.”

“God,” Patton raised his gaze to the sky. Virgil kept his eyes on him. “ _ Fuck _ . It was hard enough to hear about you going through all of that, but for my  _ soulmate _ to have to endure that? I just-”

Patton’s nose scrunched up and he looked like he was going to cry again. “I know,” Virgil dropped one of Patton’s hands to brush his thumb across Patton’s cheek. “Me too. Perhaps more.”

Patton made a small choked noise in the back of his throat. “You’re still the only one that knows,” he whispered, so quiet that Virgil almost didn’t hear him over the sound of the city. “I haven’t- I never-”

“No one knows about my scars,” Virgil said, just as soft. He moved his thumb to cup Patton’s cheek. Patton looked back at him, tears in his eyes. “Well, except for one tattoo artist in Montgomery.”

“You covered them up?”

Virgil shook his head. “Not quite. More like… Put them away?” he sniffed a bit with an awkward laugh. “I didn’t need them anymore.”

“I dumped the pills down the toilet the morning after Roman and I made up,” Patton said quietly. “Said that I lost them up. We didn’t get anymore.”

Virgil hadn’t know that. Just like Pattycake hadn’t known about that tattoos. “Safer state of mind?” Virgil asked.

“Yes. You?”

Virgil bobbed his head. “Definitely.”

Virgil pulled Patton into another hug and the smaller man went without any resistance. And there, on the sidewalk between Bleaker and Mercer, two soulmates held each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Logan are having dinner at Roman and Patton's place. Virgil suspects that Patton is Pattycake, his online friend. There is too much going on for him not to notice the possibility. Logan notices that Virgil is zoning out and checks in him; Patton also checks on him and offers him some tea to help sleep. Roman assures Virgil it's not drugged. Patton calls Roman prince, which is what Pat calls one of his soulmates.
> 
> Virgil has a panic attack. During which time, he reminisces about conversations between him and Pat (implied suicidal thoughts/action on Pat's side, implied self-harm on Virgil's side, and the death of Virgil's friend Oliver). Realizes Patton is Pat.
> 
> Patton helps Virgil come down from his panic attack. Virgil and Logan leave. They say they love each other.
> 
> Days later, Virgil goes to Remy's coffeeshop. He pulls Patton aside to talk to him. They admit to being Storm and Pat and also agree to keep everything they've discussed in the past to themselves. They also both admit that they're in better mindsets now. They hug.


	14. patton blumenthal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of cancer and death, implied sibling abuse, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares

Patton awoke with a start when Roman lurched up. Patton's first instinct was to go back to sleep, that Roman was just going to the restroom, but as his eyes fluttered closed, he focused on the sounds of his soulmate.

Roman's breaths were ragged and tight, a choked whine rising up in his throat.

Patton reacted quickly. He sat up, winding his arms around Roman and pulling him close. Roman's head against Patton's chest, his hands sprawled out on Patton's lap. Patton rubbed circles into Roman's back, whispering, humming, shushing. 

Roman collapsed against him, chest heaving with sobs as he moved closer and closer to Patton. Eventually, his arms rose to wrap around Patton's shoulders and, eventually, his cries subsided to sniffles.

They sat like that until Roman's voice, tiny and cracked broke the silence. "What time is it?"

Patton reached back, fumbling for his phone. He squinted against the brightness of the screen. "Almost two," he said quietly before pressing a kiss to the crown of Roman's head.

Roman raised his head to look up at Patton. Patton's heart broke at the sight of him. Red-ringed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Even now, after calming down, a wild look lingered in his gaze. For Roman, dreams were vivid and bright and all too real. It took him a long, long time to differentiate between reality and fantasy.

"You just came to bed, didn't you?"

Patton hummed an affirmation.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, love."

Roman exhaled shakily and held Patton a little tighter. Patton hooked his chin over Roman's head. "Do you want to talk about it?" Patton asked after a few minutes of silence.

Roman shook his head. "No, not really."

"Will you?"

A pause. And then: "It was the same one," Roman whispered. "About Remus."

Patton gripped his soulmate a little tighter. "It's okay," he ran his fingers through Roman's hair. "You're safe."

Several more seconds passed and Patton was sure that Roman had dozed off again when his voice slipped through the silence.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Patton laid down with him, his words a confession on his lips. “Yes, you do.”

* * *

Patton cast another glance over at Roman, a discreet look when Logan turned towards Virgil's sister, Adelaide. Roman  _ looked _ okay enough. Jabbing a grumpy Virgil in the ribs as he teased him about how he cut potatoes. Boasting about how he would win this cook off. Singing a tune from every musical the four of them could name.

But Patton knew better.

If Roman hadn't been so excited about going over to Logan and Virgil's house, Patton would've convinced him to stay home. Roman was never in the right state of mind after a nightmare. Patton’s throat tightened whenever he thought about the first time he saw Roman after one, his gaze dead, his demeanor quiet. As if his Roman had been replaced with a ghost.

“Right, Pat?”

Patton blinked out of his thoughts, glancing over at Virgil, who watched him with a gentle, half-amused expression.

It'd been less than a week since they came clean about being Stormcloud and Pattycake, but the two of them had adjusted pretty easily. It was as if their online friendship had translated to the real world, warm and old and familiar.

“Did we lose you?” Virgil asked.

“Oh,” Patton chuckled, his gaze shooting over to Roman. Roman turned around, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, sorry. I went to bed a bit too late.” 

He didn’t miss the guilty expression that crossed Roman’s face as he turned back to his cooking. Everyone else appeared to be oblivious.

“I thought we discussed your sleeping habits, Patton,” Logan said, his tone disapproving. “You cannot continue to go to bed at two in the morning and wake up at six.”

“I take a nap as soon as I get home,” Patton protested with a pout.

“Logan isn’t going to accept that,” Adelaide said. Patton glanced over at Virgil’s sister. She was so unlike him it was a little uncanny. But Patton knew better than anyone that family ran deeper than blood.

“Yeah,” Virgil added over his shoulder. “Logan cares more about schedules than he does about any of us.”

“Falsehood,” Logan said calmly, apparently unaffected by their teasing. “I implement schedules because I care.”

Patton smiled impishly at Logan, his mood already lifting. “Are you implying that you care about us, Logan?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised by how easily the four of them fell into this teasing routine. After all, Roman and Patton became joined at the hip literally ten minutes after meeting each other. But it did surprise him, pleasantly. And he was happier for it.

So happy, in fact, that he didn’t notice Roman suddenly go rigid. Didn’t notice his hands tightening around the spoon. Didn’t notice the smell of burning rising into the air.

“Hey, Roman..?” Virgil said, his tone cautious. “Roman?”

“Oh no,” Patton mumbled before he bounced to his feet. He quickly crossed the room, more than aware of the eyes on him. “Just… Give him space.”

Virgil shuffled back, eyes wide, and Logan was by his side in a second. Even Adelaide started to rise from her seat.

Patton just switched the stove off, acutely aware of the tiny flinch Roman gave. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Patton’s heart ache. His hand reached out as he said softly, "I'm putting my hand on your shoulder, Roman."

When his fingers settled gently on Roman's shoulder, he tensed, but didn't flinch or pull away. Patton bit down on his lip, watching the tears form in Roman's eyes. "I'm going to hug you," Patton said.

Roman went without any resistance, practically collapsing against Patton. They both slid down to the floor as Patton held onto him tightly, whispering reassurances and words of love, promises that he was okay.

Eventually, Roman relaxed, though he kept his vice grip on Patton. Patton's eyes raised to Virgil and Logan, who watched them with open concern. Adelaide, it appeared, had left the room, though a blanket had been left on her chair.

Patton's eyes darted on the blanket and Logan was across the room in two strides. He draped it over Roman's shoulders as Patton readjusted himself so his legs wouldn't fall asleep. Roman barely reacted to all of the movement.

"We should move to the living room," Virgil said.

"In a moment," Patton responded.

He knew they had questions. Who wouldn't? Patton and Virgil knew about each other's struggles with mental health. Logan knew about Virgil's anxiety and, if Patton had to guess, Logan suspected Patton wasn't all good, all the time.

But Roman was different, in a way. Sometimes, even Patton forgot that Roman could get trapped in his own mind. In memories of the past. When he laughed off moving out of his parents' house, it was easy to forget all of the reasons _ why _ he moved in with Remy and Emile. He was pretty sure that even Roman forgot the reasons why sometimes.

Patton doubled over Roman, his face close to his ear. "We're going to move now, okay?"

Roman gave him the barest nod and they stood. It was slow going but, eventually, all four of them were in Logan and Virgil's living room. Patton sat on the couch and Roman sprawled out on top of him, his head in Patton's lap, face turned away from Logan and Virgil. Logan sat down on the armchair and Virgil perched on the armrest next to him.

Patton continued to drag his fingers through Roman's hair. Virgil picked up a small hum and Patton smiled a bit at the way that Roman reacted to the sound of it.

It wasn't long before Roman's breathing evened out completely. Patton briefly wondered if he'd fallen asleep when he heard a small, whispered "Sorry."

"No," Patton admonished gently. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"May I," Logan flushed when all eyes turned to him. He cleared his throat, voice dropping. "May I ask what happened?"

Patton waited. After a moment, Roman turned his head a bit to look up at Patton. He gave him a small nod. Permission. Patton smiled warmly at him; to trust someone with your past was such an incredible sign of love.

Patton leaned down and pressed a kiss to Roman's temple. "Roman has another brother," he said. Both Logan and Virgil gave him startled looks; he didn't blame them, neither Roman nor Remy talked much about Remus. "A twin. His name is Remus."

"Ah, like Romulus and Remus," Logan said and Virgil jabbed him in the side. "What?"

"Yes," Roman said, his strained voice silencing the other three. "Exactly like that."

Virgil leaned down next to Logan’s ear and whispered (very poorly), “Who are Romulus and Remus?”

Patton didn’t miss the flash of a smile that crossed Roman’s face before he turned his head back into Patton’s stomach.

“It’s a Roman myth,” Patton explained before pausing. “Not to be confused with our Roman’s myths.”

Roman huffed out a small breath that could've been a laugh and Patton could’ve sang about the joy that sound brought him. A levity came into the room, bright as the morning sunlight, and some of the weight lifted from their shoulders. Virgil shook his head, looking exasperated and more than a little fond. “You’re all such fucking nerds.”

That time, Roman actually snorted.

He rolled away from Patton and onto his back, green eyes staring up at the ceiling. He looked exhausted and still a little shaky, but he also looked at ease, comfortable surrounded by the three of them. He gave Patton the barest hint of a smile and Patton leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you,” Patton whispered.

“I love you too,” Roman said. He rolled over to face Virgil and Logan, who watched them with some of the most gentle expressions Patton had ever seen. Roman took a deep breath as Patton massaged a circle into his shoulder. “Remus… Let’s just say he isn’t really a great person. And sometimes, I have… Moments… When I remember he isn’t such a good person.”

PTSD. The words lingered in the air, but no one said it. It wasn’t in their place. After a long moment, Virgil spoke, his voice wavering, but firm. “I guess we all have demons to deal with,” he said, lacing his fingers with Logan’s.

Logan looked a little more shocked than Virgil was. He coughed, cleared his throat, coughed again. Patton made to reach for the glass of water on the table when he noticed the shiny layer over Logan’s eyes.

“Logan,” Roman said, his voice soft and concerned. “It’s okay; I’m… Better now.”

Virgil reached up to comb his fingers through Logan’s hair and it seemed to soothe him the barest amount. “What triggered this particular occurence?” Logan asked. He sounded strained, choked,  _ sad _ .

“A nightmare,” Roman said with a small sigh. “They don’t happen as often as they used to, but… When they do…”

“I understand,” Virgil said. Patton knew Virgil did and by the slightly pained look on Logan’s face, he also knew. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys this sooner," Roman said. "You're all so honest about this kind of stuff and I'm just… Not… It's not fair to any of us."

Guilt pooled in Patton's stomach, cold and sickening. Patton met Vigil’s gaze and he could see the confession on the musician's tongue before he spoke. “I used to… Hurt myself when I was younger.”

Logan jerked violently and Virgil flinched back from him. Before he could move away though, Logan caught his hand. “No no, sorry,” Logan soothed as he pressed a kiss to Virgil’s hand. “Sorry. I didn’t- I mean- I-”

Roman’s eyes looked a little wider than before. Patton bit down on the inside of his cheek when Virgil looked at him again. “Why?” Roman asked before appearing to shake himself. “Sorry, you don’t need to answer that.”

Virgil nodded. “I won’t,” he said, more to himself than to them. He used his free hand to wipe at the edges of his eyes, smudging some of the eyeliner. “Not tonight anyways.”

“Any other secrets we’re harboring?” Roman asked, though his sounded half-joking.

“I’ve tried to kill myself,” Patton said, his voice only a decibel above a whisper.

He regretted the words as soon as he said them. Roman lurched upwards, whirling around to face Patton with the most terrified expression Patton had ever seen on his face. Patton’s body reacted almost without command. He curled in on himself, knees up to his chest, face pressed into his thighs. Patton knew that he’d have to tell Roman one day, but maybe now wasn’t the best time.

“What?” Roman said. He didn’t sound angry or sad or even scared. He sounded disbelieving with an edge of disappointed.

Patton could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Next to him, the armrest shifted and a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders. Patton dropped his head onto the offered lap, breathing in the bittersweet smell of Virgil’s cologne. Patton felt himself relax, just a bit, wrapping a hand into the loose fabric of Virgil’s hoodie. A hand settled on Patton’s head, one that he recognized as Logan’s. 

A moment later, Patton felt a hand on his shoulder and he raised his blurry gaze to look up at Roman. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking so very apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Patton said. It wasn't, not really, but it was better, less terrible. Like he and Virgil said: a safer state of mind. And not only a safer state of mind, but a safer place. Patton was here. His Stormcloud was here. His Prince. Even his Logic. He smiled at Roman. “We can talk about it some other time maybe.”

Roman just nodded and Patton scrubbed the tears from his eyes. Patton shifted a bit, but didn’t move away from Virgil. Roman settled down next to Patton, leaning his head on Patton’s shoulder. 

“Can I…” Logan started before he pulled away from Patton.

“L?” Virgil asked. His fingers started carding through Patton’s hair and Patton hummed out a content sigh. “What is it?”

Patton looked over at Logan. He looked like he might be sick. He swallowed a little thickly and nodded to himself. Patton watched him with concern, “Are you okay, Lo-lo?”

Logan paused at the nickname, a slip of a smile crossing his face. Then it fell. “I have a confession,” he said and Patton’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. He felt Roman’s body tense and even Virgil’s hands stopped running through Patton’s hair. “This is not a thought I have rehearsed or have notes for so if my words don’t come across clearly, I apologize. But we have been very open with each other tonight and I feel that it is only right that I am open with you as well.”

“You can tell us anything, Specs.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Roman’s new nickname, but didn’t comment on it. “I have been meaning to talk to Virgil about this,” Logan said and Virgil’s concern dipped into panic. “No, no. Nothing like that, my dear.”

Whatever  _ that _ was; Patton didn’t know.

“It’s about my career of choice,” Logan continued. “Neurosurgery.”

He paused before going to sit down on the armchair again. Virgil glanced between Patton and Logan, obviously unsure if he should move or not. Patton lifted his head in response and Virgil moved back to his original spot next to Logan. Logan placed a hand on Virgil's knee as if to steady himself.

"Thomas and I are orphans," he said, staring down at his lap. "We were six when our mother was diagnosed with esthesioneuroblastoma."

"That's a big word," Roman muttered.

"It's a type of cancer that starts in the sinuses," Patton said absently and Logan looked over at him in surprise.

"How did you know that?"

Patton flushed. "I know big words."

Logan's expression relaxed for just a second before closing up again. A blank slate. "Yes. It is as Patton said. It… Travelled quickly. She died the next summer. My dad followed her; they marked it as an unfortunate car accident, but I think-"

He broke off and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. They were all a little stunned, even Virgil who just gently dropped a hand onto his back.

Logan took a moment to compose himself. "In the months before the car accident," he said. "My dad became a shell, an empty version of his former self. And during that entire time, I could not help but think if I was older and smarter, maybe- Maybe I would have been able to save her, save  _ both _ of them."

Silence descended over the room, a silence that Patton could feel, deep within his core. But it wasn't cold. It wasn't unfeeling. It was full of love, of understanding, of the future.

"You were just a kid," Patton said finally.

Logan looked up at him, expression hard, but determined. "We were all just kids, Patton."

Patton heard a gasp and a sniffle. And when he turned, he was startled to find Roman dabbing at his eyes. Patton's own chest felt tight and before he knew it, the tears were streaming down his face.

Logan and Virgil shared a glance before shuffling forward and pulling both of them into an awkward hug of tangled limbs and bumping heads. Virgil stepped on Roman's toe and they all burst out laughing when he let out a string of substitute curses. 

It was strange and a little uncomfortable, but it was the best hug Patton had ever had.

* * *

The call came two days later. 

Patton had been folding laundry while Roman did the dishes. Patton could tell that Roman was getting restless without having a rehearsal to go to. He kept showing up at the coffeeshop and Virgil mentioned that he was going to the bar and drinking soda all night. Even Logan told Patton that he popped in at the hospital once, Greek food in hand.

It was cute that he wanted to spend time with his soulmates, but even Patton had to admit that he was starting to get in the way.

So Patton sent Roman to do chores on the other side of the apartment to have some time to himself. Later, they planned to meet up with Logan to go a new astronomy exhibit at the museum. He’d initially wanted to bring Virgil, but their punk soulmate had rehearsal and then he had to work. Patton and Roman were more than happy to fill that void for him.

At first, Patton didn’t notice the phone ringing over the sound of his music coming from the bluetooth speaker. But when he did, the sound of Mother Knows Best cutting through the soft indie guitar, he whirled around and shuffled through the sheets. Roman’s phone was much bigger than Patton’s with a sparkly red case and Mickey Mouse popsocket on the back. Patton smiled briefly at the popsocket, a gift from Virgil.

He’d been bright red when he held out the little bags to Patton and Roman. It wasn’t a special occasion, no fancy plan. Patton felt a little bad that he didn’t have a present in return. But he took one look at the Hufflepuff popsocket and fell in love. Virgil got one for all of them: Mickey Mouse for Roman, Hufflepuff for Patton, the Jedi symbol for Logan. It was actually Logan that told Patton and Roman that Virgil made them himself.

Even Patton had been surprised to learn that Virgil painted.

Patton didn’t glance at the caller ID as he answered the phone, though he should’ve guessed who it was from the ringtone. “Hello?” he answered, voice chipper and bright.

“Hi, Patton.”

Patton blinked and pulled the phone away from his face.  _ Mom Mom Mom _ was displayed across the screen alongside a picture of Roman and his mom hugging. He put the phone back to his ear, “Tabitha! What a surprise!”

And an uncommon one at that. It wasn’t that Roman disliked his parents or even really resented them in any way, but over the years, Patton had come to realize that sometimes, families just weren’t as close as the Blumenthals. It didn’t mean they didn’t love each other (Patton knew that they did). They were just distant, calling on holidays, on Roman or Patton’s birthdays, and when really bad or really good things happened.

Patton hoped it was the latter.

“Yes, dear,” Patton heard some shifting as if Tabitha was moving around. “Is Roman around?”

Patton turned back towards the door. Even from here, he could hear the sounds of Roman singing and dishes clashing. “He’s in the kitchen. Do you want me to get him?”

“Um,” Tabitha muttered and Patton started for the door. “No actually. It might be better if you tell him.”

Patton stilled, his heart thrumming in his ears. “Tell him what?”

Tabitha took a deep breath. Patton forced himself to do the same. “Remus is back,” she said, her voice quiet. “He just… Last night, he just showed up on our doorstep.”

“What?” Patton closed the door, dropping his volume.

Remus was back? Patton remembered when they got the call that Remus had disappeared from the mental health center two years back. He remembered Roman’s anxiety, remembered watching him pace back and forth across the floor for hours. Insisting they sleep in the living room. Refusing the leave the house without someone else. The nightmares, the fear, the confessions of everything Roman’s twin had done, going far beyond the fights and expulsions, roots of trauma embedded in the garden of Roman’s mind.

And now Remus was  _ back _ ?

“He wants to see Roman and Remy,” Tabitha said.

“I don’t-” Patton’s words choked in his throat and he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Neither do we,” Tabitha responded. She sounded tired, Patton realized, more tired than she’d ever sounded. “Can you just tell Roman please? And have him call me back later tonight?”

“Yeah,” Patton said. “I can do that.”

“Thank you, honey,” Tabitha said before she hung up.

Patton stood in the middle of the room, phone still pressed to his ear for several more seconds. He didn’t hear Roman enter until he spoke. “Who was that?” he asked. Patton’s chest ached. He sounded so happy and with a few words, Patton was going to destroy that. He understood now why Tabitha didn’t want to tell him herself. “Pat, was it Our Chemically Imbalanced Romance? He was supposed to call when he got that refrain figured out.”

Patton turned slowly and Roman must’ve seen something in his expression because Roman’s content smile dropped. “Patton?”

Patton swallowed, steeled himself as he dropped the phone back onto the bed. “It was your mom,” he said slowly. He just needed to come out and say it, he knew, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Everything okay?”

“Remus is back.”

The words came out of Patton’s mouth in a jumbled flood and it was several long, tense moments before Roman’s eyes widened. The panic painted his expression, replacing all the happiness that had been there before. “No,” Roman said. “No, no,  _ no _ .”

“Roman,” Patton said, stepping closer.

He felt a little queasy when Roman moved away, hugging his arms close to his body. “Where is he?”

Patton swallowed. “At your parents’ house. He- They didn’t tell him where you are.”

Roman shook his head, one hand shoving through his hair. “He’ll find me. We need to-”

“Roman, take a breath,” Patton reached out, settling a hand on Roman’s arm. 

Roman shuffled closer as he took a few steadying breaths. Patton’s arms encased him and Roman returned the hug after a brief moment. He didn’t protest when Patton guided them back to the bed, laying them down. Roman didn’t say anything, just held on tightly to Patton as if he would disappear if he let go.

“You’re safe,” Patton whispered, soothing, his hands brushing over Roman’s body. “You’re safe here.”

They must’ve laid there for a long time because a knock came at the bedroom door. Patton raised his head as Emile called. “Logan’s here.”

_ Fuck _ . Patton forgot about that. He started to pull away from Roman, but Roman grabbed at him, a whine in his throat. “Don’t go,” Roman said. He sounded sleepy.

“I’ll be right back,” Patton soothed, but Roman didn’t let go and Patton didn’t have the strength to shake him off. “ _ Honey _ , I have to go talk to Logan.”

Another knock, though this one sounded off from Remy’s joking rhythmic knock and Emile’s soft raps. “I’m coming!” Patton called back. Roman was watching him with wide eyes.

“May I come in?”

Patton blinked in surprise at hearing Logan’ voice on the other side of the door. Roman startled and curled in on himself more. Patton leaned down, quiet enough that Logan wouldn’t hear them. “Can he come in?”

Roman nodded and Patton pressed a kiss to his temple. “Come in,” he said.

He blinked when Logan came in with a bag. And blinked again when a sheepish Virgil entered behind him. “Virge?”

Roman shifted and sat up, his grip on Patton’s hand never loosening. Roman tried a smile, but it was clear to everyone in the room how strained it was.

Logan closed the door as Virgil took the bags and set them on Patton’s desk. Patton watched in confusion as Logan closed the curtain and flicked on a lamp and Virgil started to pull out an assortment of objects.

“What are you doing here?” Patton asked. He rubbed a soothing circle against Roman’s back, but Roman appeared more curious than distressed at the moment.

“We have been informed that Roman is feeling less than optimal,” Logan stated. 

He and Virgil started transferring the stuff in the bags onto the bed. Patton picked up the bag of potato chips with a raised eyebrow. He looked up and a smile broke out on his face when he saw the old-fashioned portable DVD player Virgil set down, along with the entire Harry Potter collection.

“Seeing as our last movie night was put on hold,” Virgil said with that adorable half-smile of his. “We decided to do it now.”

“Don’t you have work?” Roman asked quietly.

“One of my coworkers actually wanted to trade,” Virgil replied. With a bit of hesitance, he reached out and placed a hand on Roman’s head. Patton realized with a start he wasn’t wearing his gloves. “Besides, this is more important.”

“May we sit?” Logan asked, gesturing to the bed.

Roman’s fake smile twinged into a more genuine one before he broke out into a wide grin. He nodded enthusiastically before holding up his hands. “Wait!”

Patton didn’t even have time to process before Roman leapt off of the bed and disappeared into the hallway. Logan sat down next to Patton. “Is he alright?”

“His brother showed up at his parents’ house.”

“Yeah,” Virgil nodded, his expression shifting from warm to upset. “I went in to get a coffee before work and Remy told me.”

“Remy told you?”

“Well, he thought I already knew,” Virgil shrugged, stuffing his hands into his hoodie. “It was fucking awkward.”

“Language,” Patton admonished and Virgil rolled his eyes. Patton looked over at Logan. “Sorry we forgot about the museum.”

Logan shook his head once. “Do not apologize. Roman’s mental health is much more important than stars I’ve seen a million times.”

Roman burst back into the room, holding what appeared to be every pillow and blanket in the apartment. His grin was wide, warm, and so infectious that Patton mirrored it. “Blanket fort!” Roman declared as he moved over to the empty space on the side of his and Patton’s bed. He dropped the blankets without any ceremony and looked up at his soulmates with pleading eyes. “Please?”

Virgil shrugged and reached for a pillow, “I’m game.”

Logan nodded. “Very well. I did take a class on architecture, so I will make sure it is structurally sound.”

“Okay, Archi-specks,” Roman said with a wink in Logan’s direction.

Logan let out a small groan as Roman and Virgil fist-bumped. “That might be worse than Patton’s puns.”

Patton stopped smiling long enough to pout. “Hey, my puns are amazing. How else do you think they got Patton-ed?”

All three of them groaned, small smiles on their faces. “That was terrible!” Virgil exclaimed. “Please stop torturing us, Pat.”

“Don’t you mean  _ pun-ishing _ you?”

Logan waved his hands in front of him. “Okay, we should make this fort before Patton comes up with anything else.”

Patton raised his eyebrows. “Do you not have the fort-itude to withstand my puns?”

Virgil snickered at that one and Roman clasped a hand over his chest with a dramatic gasp. “Betrayed? By the teddy bear bad boy?”

Virgil clicked his tongue, shooting finger guns towards Roman. Then he let out a small groan and buried his face in his hands.

“Even I am embarrassed for you,” Logan said.

They all started working on the fort, throwing jokes and jabs back and forth. It was light and airy. Maybe tomorrow, Patton and Roman would sit down with Remy and Emile and talk. Maybe Logan and Virgil would be there. But right here, right now? With Roman digging out every last bit of Harry Potter merch he and Patton had and Logan and Virgil setting up a faux snack bar? This was what mattered. They were what mattered.

Roman fell asleep curled up against Virgil halfway through the fourth movie. Virgil looked flushed and a little embarrassed, but not unhappy or uncomfortable. He met Patton’s gaze over Roman’s head and smiled softly.

Patton knew that tomorrow, he would wake up surrounded by his soulmates, buried in this nest of blankets and pillows. And he also knew that, no matter what, as long as they were together, everything would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, sorry this took so long. I wasn't sure if I wanted to this plotline or another plotline first! But then I realized I need to get Roman some angst and love and here we are. The next two chapters will be Roman-centric as well and then the last four chapters should be the last chapters of the fic.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading!
> 
> Next chapter is Roman: Roman loved most surprises (this one, he did not).


	15. roman carroll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied sibling abuse, feelings of neglect, alcohol, heavy making out, implied/referenced sexual content

Roman liked surprises. Really, he did. Probably more than an average person should like having random things happen to them at any given moment. It was why, after having surprise birthday parties for most of his life, Patton started throwing them on random days in the same month. Just to catch him off guard.

But this, he thought, shrinking down in his seat at Pamela's Bar, was  _ not _ a surprise he wanted. He hoped, prayed that his twin didn’t spot him while Virgil was finding Pamela to kick him out.

This was just supposed to be an outing out with Virgil, something simple and fun to lighten Roman’s mood. Of course, that plan failed spectacularly when Roman saw Remus wander into the bar. When Virgil saw Remus and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Why was he  _ here _ ? Why was Remus  _ here _ ? How did he know Roman would be here, that this was a bar linked to him? There was a reason why Roman didn't post his location on social media. Why he asked the people he went out with not to tag him. Virgil  _ knew  _ that. So why. Was. Remus. Here?!

He looked so much like Roman that it was as if his mirror image had been projected across the room. However, unlike Roman, Remus looked worse for the wear, bags under his eyes, dressed in only a green hoodie and sweats. Roman wondered how he got from Maine to New York. How he knew Roman was  _ in _ New York.

Virgil appeared and sat down in the booth next to Roman. Roman shrunk behind Virgil’s frame. “Breathe,” Virgil said. He ran his hand up Roman’s arm in a soothing motion. “Hey, Princey, look at me.”

Roman turned. He knew that he looked a little insane, his eyes wide and his breath hitching. He looked like a hunted animal. He  _ felt _ like a hunted animal.

“Just keep looking at me,” Virgil said.

Roman did. He took in Virgil’s dark eyes, like onyx in the dim lighting of the bar. The sharp slope of his cheekbones, his jawline, his nose. Virgil was not in his usual hoodie. Instead, he was wearing a Green Day band-tee and the good jeans, the ones the hugged him in all the right places. His hair was just a tad mussed up, like he’d run his fingers through it.

The back door swung open loudly. Roman made to turn his head towards the sound, but Virgil’s hand snapped out to catch his chin. “Me,” he said, holding Roman’s head in place with a firm, but feather light grip. “Look at me.”

Roman heard some commotion, but he kept his gaze on Virgil’s eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe Roman's mind was more confused than he thought, but it looked like Virgil’s eyes were dipping to Roman's lips.

Roman heard footsteps. His breathing quickened. Remus was coming. Remus was-

Virgil’s lips were against Roman's. He tasted of beer and tequila and something sweet, maybe a little smoky. 

All of Roman's panicked thoughts stuttered to a quick and sudden stop. Roman had never kissed anyone except for Patton, so the experience was new, unique. But good. Oh so good. Remus briefly forgotten, his mind switched course to Virgil, Virgil,  _ Virgil _ .

Virgil’s hand travelled from Roman's chin to his cheek, sliding his fingers into Roman’s hair. When Virgil deepened the kiss, Roman responded in kind, his hand coming to rest on Virgil’s thigh. Roman’s hand slipped a bit lower and Virgil gasped.

He pulled away as quickly as he’d pulled close. Roman head spun, his senses slowly come back into focus. Virgil’s breathing was hitched, ragged and his eyes were wide with surprise, pupils blown wide. Virgil worried his lip between his teeth and Roman wanted to kiss him again.

“Sorry,” Virgil said. “I didn’t know how to hold your attention.”

"It's fine," Roman said a little dreamily. And then he remembered why Virgil had kissed him. He met Virgil’s gaze. "Is he… Is he gone?"

Virgil nodded before pointing to the door, where a particularly intimidating man leaned against the wall. "That's Pam's husband, Charlie. He's not going to let him anywhere near the bar. She also said we can leave out back."

Roman felt a bit of the weight lifted from his shoulders. As long as Remus didn't know where he lived, he was safe. He'd probably never be able to come back to the bar though.

"Charlie is a little scary," Roman said in an attempt to drag himself away from his thoughts.

Remus hadn't seen him. Roman was sure of that. If he had, he wouldn't have left until cops showed up to drag him out. Roman was stubborn, but nobody was more stubborn than Remus.

Virgil chuckled, dropping his head onto his open palm. Roman reached for the beer in front of him, sipping it. It sat in his stomach, warm and comforting. 

"Trust me," Virgil said. "Pam is the scary one. Sorry… Again."

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps with was something else entirely. But Roman grabbed Virgil by his shirt and pulled him into another kiss, this one just as searing as the first. Roman's hands were slipping into Virgil’s hair when someone from nearby loudly cleared their throat.

Roman turned a glare to the disgruntled woman and Virgil made a small huff if disappointment against his cheek. Roman didn’t have time to pull Virgil back when he turned away. He was very clearly avoiding Roman's gaze as he traced circles onto the table. "We're still in public," he said quietly. He sounded a bit breathless.

"Perhaps we should move to a different location," Roman said with a wink.

Virgil flushed even more and Roman had never been more pleased with himself. He met Virgil’s gaze. Roman's heart skipped a beat when he saw that Virgil's expression was more considering than embarrassed.

Virgil stood so suddenly that Roman's head spun. "We should go," Virgil said, his words rushed.

Roman stared up at him with a dazzling grin. "Yes, we should."

The two of them hurried out of the booth, nearly tripping over one another. Virgil held open the door to the back for Roman and popped into the office to say goodbye to Pam.

The air outside was cold and bracing, but Roman's had never felt warmer. He slipped into his coat, casting a glance over at Virgil, who shuffled through some of the slush. It was as if all of Virgil’s heat had been replaced with sweet shyness.

“What?” Roman teased. “Lose your courage, Cowardly Lion?”

Virgil shoved his hands into his hoodie’s pockets and guilt pooled in Roman’s stomach. He stepped closer. “Nothing has to happen,” Roman said, trying to soothe him.

Virgil’s eyes snapped up to Roman’s face. Roman nearly melted under the intense gaze, but he refused to look away. Wasn’t sure if he  _ could _ look away. Virgil mouthed something that Roman didn’t catch and took a long stride towards him.

Before he realized what was happening, Roman was pressed up against the wall, Virgil’s lips crushed against his. Roman felt ridiculous for ever thinking that Virgil’s heat had disappeared. Virgil was all heat, his fingers burning invisible marks into Roman’s skin as Virgil touched his face, his other hand pressed to Roman’s thigh. Roman kept his arms locked firmly around Virgil’s neck, dragging a hand through his dark hair.

A millenia could’ve passed by around them and Roman wouldn’t have noticed. It was still too soon when Virgil pulled away, panting heavily against Roman’s mouth. Roman didn’t dare open his eyes; he didn’t trust his own ability to restrain himself. 

After a moment, Virgil stepped back. Roman made to follow him, but the punk just held out his hand. Virgil looked sheepish, but there was a lovely flush to his cheeks, his lips slightly swollen. "Let's go," he said.

Roman let Virgil tug him away, down the alleyway and onto the main road about a block down. The streets were almost empty, save for a few taxis. Roman stepped closer to Virgil, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

"Kiss me?" he asked softly.

"I will," Virgil said and there was a low rumble to his voice that Roman had never heard before.

Roman made a small whine, the sound as involuntary as breathing. "Not fair," Roman muttered.

"Trust me, Princey,” Virgil lifted their hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Roman’s hand. “It'll be worth the wait."

Thirty minutes later, in Logan and Virgil's house, Roman learned that it was, in fact, worth the wait. So, so,  _ so _ worth the wait.

* * *

Roman's soulmates kept him as distracted as possible over the next couple of days. Movies, dinners, drinks, even a particular wacky occurrence of mini golf where Logan somehow destroyed all of them. Being around them calmed Roman’s nerves about Remus until his twin became a bee buzzing in the background. Roman became completely entrapped in their smiles, in their laughter, in their teasing and heartfelt discussions.

But when night rolled around and the lights went out, the fear returned. He hadn't slept well since the night when he and Virgil dozed off in Virgil’s bed, tangled together. They hadn’t really talked about it, but Roman knew that they needed to eventually. That they  _ all _ needed to talk about it eventually. He told Patton about, of course, and Patton had been nothing but encouraging and happy.

Sweet, sweet Patton. He stayed awake with Roman most of the night and Roman felt terrible about it because he knew that he was pulling Patton away from writing. Of course, Patton soothed his fears about this and held him, woke up when a nightmare came, watched movies until Roman nodded off. He never complained about it, never yawned or rubbed his eyes, but Roman could tell that he was exhausted. It worried Roman; made him think of the days when Patton wasn’t sleeping at all, passing out at random points.

Roman told himself over and over and over again that Remus had no idea where he was. Finding a personal address was much harder than finding a bar. It’s not as if they were listed in the phonebook. But the fear still remained. Because what if Remus found the  _ Bean Queen _ or showed up at the hospital or at Roman’s theater company?

All of Roman’s progress in the years since Remus disappeared had been thrown out of the window. He was back to only leaving the apartment with other people, to sitting by the front door until Patton pulled him to bed, to getting up every thirty minutes to check the locks on the doors, the windows. When Patton left for work, it only became so much worse until Virgil or Logan or both of them showed up to distract him for the day.

And when Roman walked into the kitchen one morning to find Remy sitting at the kitchen table, his fear turned to panic. "Hey, gurl," Remy said, the usual upbeat tone of his voice gone.

"What?" Roman asked his older brother as he scrambled into a chair. "What happened?"

Remy rubbed at his face. He looked exhausted, which was understandable. It was nine in the morning and Remy didn't usually go to bed until after Patton. "He's on the streets, Roman."

Roman didn't need a name to know who they were talking about. The panic in his body settled into a tight pit in his stomach.

"Why doesn't mom come get him?" Roman asked, clenching his hands into tight fists until his arms shook with the exertion.

"She can," Remy said. "She  _ will _ , but not for another couple of days. And Roman, we can't just-"

"No," Roman stated harshly, bluntly. His voice was too calm for the situation. "Absolutely not."

"He's our _ brother _ , Roman."

"He's a sociopath!" Roman shouted as he launched to his feet. He slammed his hands down on the table. "A literal fucking sociopath."

Remy didn't rise to the challenge. Not yet. He kept his hands wrapped around his coffee cup, his knuckles white with the strain. "Mom said that he's gotten better. Wherever he went, he got the help he needed."

" _ Bullshit _ ," Roman hissed. "He's  _ Remus _ . He's never going to change."

Remy sighed and took a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee. Roman sunk back into his chair, shoving his hands into his hair. Then he stood again and started to pace across the floor. One side to the next side and back. He wanted to scream. Roman knew that Remus wasn’t just going to go away, slink back to Maine or back to gods know where and leave Roman alone. But there’d been the hope, a hope reinforced by the happiness he felt when surrounded by his soulmates.

“I already told Mom he can stay here,” Remy said and Roman let out a small, wordless shout. “I have to, Roman; he’s family.”

_ So am I _ . Roman bit back the words, instead opting to glare at Remy. His older brother frowned, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses.

Roman knew this was a fight he wouldn’t win. He and Patton lived in this apartment, yes. They split the cost of food, utilities, the Netflix account, but Remy and Emile paid the rent. They’d wanted Roman and Patton to save up, to help out until Roman got his shot on Broadway or Patton put out his bestseller.

He had no say in whether or not Remus was allowed to sleep on the couch. And if Roman’s parents heard that he said no, well… They understood Roman’s trauma, they did. But Roman knew there was some parental part of Tabitha and Andrew Carroll that just wanted their children to get along, to care for and love each other. Even if one of their sons was an apathetic monster.

“I can’t stay here when he’s here,” Roman said after a moment. He slowed in his pacing, wincing at the desperate tone of his voice.

“I know,” Remy responded. “Mom offered to pay for a hotel room for you and Patton.”

Roman felt a flare of anger at his parents. “Why can’t  _ Remus  _ go to the hotel?”

Roman knew the answer before Remy even said it. Of course he did. It was the same reason why Roman moved in with Remy and not Remus, the same reason why Roman was the one left out of any family event including Remus. The only difference now was that Remy wasn’t on the outside with Roman.

“Mom doesn’t want him to be alone.”

It hurt to know that Roman wasn’t always his parents’ top priority. His parents loved him and Roman knew he was luckier than most. He knew that Virgil’s dads disowned him, that Logan’s parents were dead, that Patton’s grandparents were unjustly cruel. At least Roman’s parents loved and accepted him, encouraged him to follow his dreams, to find happiness.

But it was and always would be Remus over Roman. They couldn’t pay for his college because they had to pay for Remus’s mental health facility. Roman can’t come to Christmas because Remus has a visitor’s day. Roman has to move away because Remus needs help.

By this point, Roman was so used to it that all he felt was resignation.

“Okay. Fine,” Roman said with a sigh. “I’ll call Mom and talk to her.”

Remy sighed and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. “Thanks.”

Roman didn't respond. He just turned sharply on his heel, fumbling with his phone to call Patton. The phone rang until he reached his bedroom. He slammed the door behind him, thankful for once that sound travelled so well in the apartment. When the ringing stopped, Roman took a deep breath.

"Remus is coming to stay with Remy," he said without waiting for Patton to greet him. He needed to get this out of the way as quickly as possible.

"That sounds impractical."

Roman blinked, ripping the phone away to look at his caller ID.  _ Fuck _ . He’d called his most recent contact without thinking. Roman was so used to Patton always being the last person he called. He hadn’t even stopped to notice that Logan, who he called earlier in the morning to ask about lunch later that day, was at the top.

"Sorry, Specs," Roman said as he leaned back against the door. He slid down into a sitting position, his legs curled up against his chest. He let his forehead fall against his knees. "I meant-"

"Meant to call Patton, yes, I gauged that much," Logan interrupted. "Give me a few seconds and then we can talk."

Roman wanted to ask what he meant. He expected Logan to hang up as soon as he realized this wasn't an emergency. Roman listened to the shuffling and the soft voices on the other side of the phone. Less than five seconds later, Logan's deep tremor returned and it eased some of the tension in Roman's shoulders. "I have returned," Logan said.

"Technically, you never left," Roman responded.

Logan paused before huffing out a breath that might have been a laugh. "You are correct."

“Sorry again. I know you’re at work.”

“Is is quite alright,” Logan said. He sounded genuine, but Roman could never be sure with his stoic soulmate. “I needed coffee anyway.”

“The  _ Bean Queen _ ?” Roman asked, hoping for a momentary distraction.

Logan seemed to understand. “No, there is a place in the cafeteria. Though I have to admit, Patton makes the best coffee.”

Roman let out a small laugh, already feeling a bit better. “Yeah, he does.”

He was still shocked by how easily Logan and Virgil put him at ease. With Patton, Roman was used to it. Patton was his anchor, his sunshine in the darkest moments. Roman couldn’t recall ever having that with someone else.

“Roman,” Logan said and Roman knew that they were back to matter at hand.

He exhaled just a bit. “Yeah?”

Logan cleared his throat. “I assume that you and Patton will be moving out while your twin is staying with Remington?”

Roman nodded before remembering that Logan couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he said. “My folks offered to pay for a hotel.”

There was a pause. And then the question Roman already asked. “Why not put Remus in a hotel?”

Roman laughed and he noticed the sound was a little wet. His free hand drifted to his face, to the tears streaming down his face. When did he start crying? “They don’t want Remus to be alone,” he said, repeating Remy’s words.

“Are they not taking your trauma into account?” Logan asked. “Because Remus invading your safe space could be quite troubling.”

Roman combed his hair back away from his face. By this point, his vision was so blurry that he couldn’t see his room. “I’m sure they thought about it,” Roman said. “They probably just thought that Remus being safe was…”

He broke off and the silence rang louder than Roman’s words ever could.

“More important?” Logan asked. His voice sounded quiet, but not soft. It was a tone that Roman recognized from the night they met. Logan was furious.

“Yup,” Roman responded. There wasn’t really much else he could say.

“Very well,” Logan said and confusion flooded over Roman, overtaking his sadness for a split second.

“What?”

“You and Patton are moving in with Virgil and I,” Logan said. His words sounded so matter-of-fact, as if he was telling Roman the weather or talking about current events. As if they’d already discussed this and Logan was just reminding him of it.

“What?” Roman said again.

Logan exhaled. “If Remus is going to invade your safe space,” he started and Roman literally couldn’t  _ believe _ this. “Then you and Patton will just have to move into a different safe space.”

Roman felt a little hysterical. “Won’t we be intruding?” he asked. He knew that Logan and Virgil were just starting to navigate their new relationship. That Patton and Roman were still little more than strangers and all of this four soulmate stuff was new territory for all of them. “Won’t we take up too much space?”

“Of course not,” Logan sounded genuinely offended at the thought. “Roman, we care about you. You’re more important than Virgil and I having a bunch of extra space.”

Roman’s chest tightened and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes again. He clapped a hand over his mouth to keep back the sob. 

Patton had been the first person to make Roman a priority, to make Roman feel as though he was more important than anything else. Roman didn’t even really realize it until eighth grade. Roman had been banned from one of the middle school’s little dances, a dance that Roman and Patton were so excited to go to because the theme was Disney. It was Roman’s fault really, for getting into a fight with a kid that was picking on one of the sixth graders. Roman had insisted that Patton go without him, have fun and drink enough punch for both of them.

The night of the dance, Patton showed up on Roman’s doorstep with a bunch of obscure board games and cheesy romantic comedies. When Roman asked why Patton decided to waste his night like this, Patton had just grinned at him, wide and beautiful, and Roman’s chest had filled with so much love he thought he might explode. “What’s the point of a dance without you?” Patton had asked.

“I will discuss it with Virgil, of course,” Logan said. “But he has already practically moved into my bedroom, so it should not be an issue.”

“Thank you,” Roman blurted, his words strained with a sob. “Really, Logan. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Roman.”

* * *

Patton and Virgil had been completely on board with the plan. 

That night, they rented a Uhaul and, despite it being relatively late at night, the four of them had Roman and Patton’s entire life packed away within two hours. They left the bed behind, deciding to just use Virgil’s, and Roman said goodbye to Remy and Emile, thanking them for everything. He promised to visit them every week once Remus was back in Maine.

It was nearly two in the morning when the last box was moved into Virgil’s old bedroom. Patton fell back onto Virgil’s bed with a groan and immediately curled up. “Your bed is so  _ comfortable _ ,” he exclaimed.

“Don’t you mean your bed?” Virgil teased before he flopped down next to Patton.

Roman smiled softly when Patton snuggled into Virgil’s side and Virgil’s face flushed red. He already felt so much more at ease. Remus didn’t know where he was. He was safe, he reminded himself. Usually the reminder fell a little flat, but when he was surrounded by his three soulmates, Roman  _ felt _ safe. 

“We need to return the Uhaul,” Logan said from his spot on Patton’s desk chair.

“‘M not gettin’ up,” Patton muttered sleepily, nuzzling into Virgil’s arm and wrapping around him like a monkey. “You neither.”

Virgil looked over at Logan with an apologetic expression. “Guess I’m out, L.”

Logan looked over Roman, his expression a little embarrassed. “I can’t drive,” he said.

Roman’s eyebrows furrowed. That was an unexpected development. “You don’t have a driver’s license?”

“He does,” Virgil said. He already had his face buried in Patton’s hair, arms wrapped around their small soulmate. “Driving gives him anxiety, which is weird cuz it calms me down.”

“Shhh,” Patton mumbled. “Trying to sleep.”

Roman laughed a bit before looking back at Logan. “I’ll drive,” he said and Logan stood.

Patton was already snoring away by the time they closed the bedroom door. Virgil smiled at them over Patton’s head.

“That is precious,” Logan said, his voice just loud enough for Roman to hear.

“Yes,” Roman switched off the light and closed the door. “It is.”

The walk down the stairs and into the truck was silent. Roman moved to start it up before pausing and looking over at Logan. He looked almost ethereal in the nightlights of the city, his jawline sharp, his glasses glinting, the apples of his cheeks hinting the smiles Roman knew he was capable of making. “Hey, Logan?”

Logan turned towards him, attentive despite the slight droop of his eyes. He was probably tired too. “Yes?”

Roman fiddled with his hands in his lap before scooting just an inch closer over the bench seat. It was quiet enough in the cab that he could hear the sounds of both his and Logan’s breathing. “May I kiss you?” Roman asked, his words hesitant.

Logan’s eyes dropped down to Roman’s lips for a split second before raising back to his eyes. Roman thought he might actually say no. He started to move back. Then Logan surged forward, his hands going up to hold Roman’s shoulders. It wasn’t exactly chaste, but it wasn’t exactly searing either. Just a press of lips that sent electricity zipping through Roman’s body. It was so… So  _ Logan _ .

Roman raised his hand, not quite sure where it was going to land, when Logan pulled back. He adjusted his glasses, red dotting his cheeks. He was very clearly  _ not _ looking at Roman.

Roman grinned at him so wide that his cheeks hurt. He turned to start the car. When his hand settled down on the middle seat, Logan placed his own on top. They laced their fingers together and rode the rest of the way to the Uhaul store in silence. For once, it was a silence Roman didn't mind. He didn't even reach to turn on the radio.


	16. logan sanders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little scare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: disturbing imagery, misuse of prescription drugs, blood, implied self-harm, panic attacks, mentions of stalking, mentions of sibling abuse, threats

Logan was happy.

He realized it with sudden clarity one night when Virgil leaned down to put a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. When Roman turned away from his fried chicken to tell Patton that they needed more flour from the store. When Patton told him that they had more in the pantry.

Logan was happy and he had never been more confused.

Logan pushed away from the table and three pairs of eyes turned towards him. "I will be back in a moment," Logan said.

As he passed Roman, the slightly taller ginger pressed a kiss to Logan's cheek. And Logan did not flinch, did not pull away. His lips just tilted into a smile, entirely without command.

He left before anyone noticed and ducked into the downstairs bathroom. Down here, there was only a toilet and a sink in a long strip. The room itself was too dark, the single overhead light only casting shadows.

When they got a new place… Logan stopped, gripped the edge of the sink. They. They meant Roman, Logan, Patton, and Virgil. When had he become a they? And why was he not more terrified?

Logan never wanted a soulmate, let alone three. But here he was, living with them, sharing food with them, laughing with and talking to them, _ kissing _ them.

Thomas always said that finding your soulmate changes things, but Logan had not believed him until now. It did. It changed  _ everything _ . Because he had spent all of his life afraid of falling in love, of cherishing someone the way his parents cherished each other.

He was afraid, not of loving them, but of losing them. Of losing himself in grief.

A knock came at the door. "Logan?" Patton's voice was quiet, concerned.

Logan opened the door to find his shortest soulmate wrong his hands together. He was dressed in yet another cardigan, this one gray, and Logan absently wondered how many sweaters Patton owned because he never seemed to wear the same one twice. 

And just yesterday, Patton had come down in the morning before he had to head to work in Roman's red hoodie and Logan had nearly made a poem about Patton on the spot. If only words sufficed the emotions churning inside of his chest. If only he understood them.

Patton smiled up at Logan with a little nervous giggle, his cheeks flushed a marvelous red that accentuated the freckles on his cheeks. Logan realized he'd been staring. He adjusted his gaze over Patton's head.

"Yes, Patton?"

"Food is ready," he said. "And I thought I'd let you know since you love sticking to your schedule and you mentioned wanting to read a few chapters of your book before bed."

Logan's lips quirked. "Yes, that was my plan."

"I just wanted to make sure you also had enough time to you know," Patton fidgeted with his fingers. “Hang out with us."

"Of course," Logan said.

Logan reached out and tipped up Patton's head. He moved to kiss Patton's forehead but, at the last minute, Patton bounced up on his tippy toes. The kiss was impossibly soft and gentle, almost as if the pressure didn't exist on Logan's lips.

It still rocked Logan's foundations as if Patton had shoved him back against the wall. Patton bounced back and winked. Logan remained rooted to the spot even after Patton disappeared back into the kitchen.

Logan eventually forced his feet to work. When he entered the kitchen, his plate was already portioned out and his three soulmates were looking at him with a variety of fond looks. A small smile from Virgil. A boisterous grin from Roman. And a gleeful beam from Patton.

Logan's face felt warm, but he did not mind it. He sat down, cutting into his chicken as everyone else started to eat as well. He turned towards Roman, "Thomas mentioned that the company is putting on another show."

"Yup," Roman said with an accentuated pop on the 'p'. "Rehearsals start next week."

Logan was grateful that Roman had seemed less tense since he and Patton moved in. Even if Logan sometimes found Roman sitting on a chair by the door. Or waiting in the kitchen when they got home. For now, at least Roman appeared more at ease and from Remy told Patton, Remus should be gone soon enough.

Things were finally falling into place.

* * *

Things were falling to pieces.

Logan stared at Roman in horror. No,  _ not _ Roman. This Roman was scrawnier than real Roman, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, which was a style choice Roman would never even attempt. Logan wasn’t even sure Roman  _ owned _ a t-shirt (he always came into the kitchen in the morning in pajama bottoms and no shirt and it was much more distracting than Logan wanted to admit). There was also a dark green handprint splayed along this Roman’s neck.

So, no. Not Roman. Remus. This was definitely Remus and Logan berated himself internally for not being able to tell the difference immediately.

The situation seemed to get more insane by the second. The longer Logan blinked at him, the more he noticed the rings under Remus’s eyes, the way his frame shook. Oh and his hand was bleeding profusely despite the bandage hastily tied around it.

Remus Carroll was standing in a hospital hallway, his green eyes boring in Logan's. Logan almost turned on his heel and walked away. In hindsight, that was what he should have done.

Because in the next moment, Remus burst out laughing, the sound just on the edge of maniacal. "Oh, it's you!" he said, much too chipper when there was a gash in his hand. He took a step toward Logan and Logan took a step back. "You know, I wondered for hours and hours and  _ hours _ which of you was the doctor. Honestly, that ridiculous tie shoulda been a giveaway."

The hall was empty except for the two of them. Most of the other students and doctors had gone home for the night but Logan had stayed behind to check something. He was very much regretting that decision now. Perhaps playing dumb would be best.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Logan tried not to wince. Even he knew that his lies were subpar at best.

"Oh  _ sweetheart _ ," Remus practically cooed and a flurry of emotions stirred in Logan. No one called him sweetheart but Nana and, now, Patton. "Don't I look familiar?"

Remus did a little twirl, still clutching his bleeding hand. When he stopped, he quirked an eyebrow at Logan. "Still not clicking? Gee, I thought you had to be smart to be a doctor."

Rage flared in Logan. "I am sm-" he snapped before working his jaw in silence until his voice could drop below a shout. "I am intelligent."

"Oh, of course," Remus crooned. "Though, in comparison to my little twinsie,  _ everyone _ is intelligent."

That snapped whatever restraint Logan had. He bit down on the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. "Falsehood," he growled. "Roman is one of the most intelligent people I know."

Remus rolled his eyes. Then rolled them a couple of more times before slumping back against the wall. "Fuck!" he shouted and Logan's anger faltered in his confusion. "These painkillers are  _ bonkers _ . You ever snuck some, doc? Thought about it? Or maybe overdosing a patient with them?"

What. The. Fuck. 

"Of course not," Logan said, his tone clipped, the voice he used with idiots.

"Not even a particularly annoying one?" Remus asked, slurring the word "annoying".

Logan was seriously debating it at the moment. He knew very little about Roman’s past with his twin brother, but he knew enough to resent the poor photocopy of his dramatic soulmate.

Remus dropped his arm suddenly and Logan watched as the blood dripped onto the floor. Strictly speaking, Logan should call someone to collect Remus or lead him back to the ER. Curiosity won out.

"What happened to your hand?"

Remus grinned as if Logan offered him candy. The curve of his lips, the uptilt, was a childish parody of Roman's dazzling smile. It set Logan’s nerves on edge.

"How else was I supposed to get into the hospital?"

Logan let that sink in. Then gaped at Remus. "You did that to  _ yourself _ ?" he practically shrieked. He needed to get someone now, someone to drag him to the psych ward.

"Don't be silly," Remus waved his hand through the air, more flippant than dismissive. "I gave some homeless guy ten bucks to stab my hand."

Logan did not know how to respond to that. After a moment, Remus snorted. “Just joking! I cut my hand while making fried potatoes,” he turned to Logan with a curious expression. “Has Roman made you our Mama’s famous fried potatoes? I like to add just a dash of cayenne to mine personally. Gives it a little  _ kick _ .”

Remus did a little kick to emphasize his point before teetering. He caught himself against the wall. Logan decided this was the most bizarre conversation he had ever had.

Logan reached for the phone on the wall and Remus’s eyes followed the movement lazily. “Oh dear, you’re going to get me in trouble!” he cried out dramatically. “And all over a little food coloring.”

Logan’s gaze snapped back over to Remus, who grinned at him. “You think a doctor would be able to tell the difference between real and fake blood. But I guess not!” Remus shrugged and turned in another circle, this one perfect. He wasn’t even  _ on _ painkillers.

When Remus turned back to Logan, his face was hardset, any hint of a smile gone. “Look,” he left a pause, likely hoping for Logan to offer a name, but Logan just stared at him. “Doc. I know you’re hiding my bro-bro somewhere. It’s soooo obvious. Written all over your face, really. And I’m going to find him. Even if I have to go back to Pamela’s Bar. Even if I have to go to the Bean Queen. Even if I have to come here. Again and again and again.”

Logan reached for the phone again. Remus just offered him the faintest smile in return. “I have something to tell Roman and you nor any of his other little soulmates are going to get in my way.”

Logan turned to the phone very quickly, rattling off his location and the code used for unstable people roaming the halls. When he turned back, Remus was gone, the hall was empty, and Logan was shaking.

* * *

He didn’t tell Roman. 

It had seemed like the right thing to do. Roman was not in the right state of mind to learn that his subjectively evil twin brother had threatened him. That Remus knew not only where  _ he _ worked, but where Virgil and Patton worked as well.

And how? How did he know who they are and where they worked. Logan’s family didn’t even know about Roman and Patton and Logan  _ talked _ to them.

Logan was pacing back and forth in the kitchen at midnight when Patton found him. He hadn’t slept yet, partially unable to and partially waiting for Virgil to get home. Logan knew, logically, that everyone was safe. He ate dinner with Patton and Roman before they retired upstairs. He kept periodically texting Virgil, who texted him back.

But he couldn’t sleep.

When Patton walked into the kitchen, he was wearing an oversized Sailor Moon t-shirt and a pair of shorts, his curls dripping wet. Logan must have been truly in his thoughts not to hear the shrieking whine that was their boiler. He was also wearing a pair of slippers that Logan recognized as Virgil’s.

Patton rubbed at his eyes and let out a small yawn, walking straight past Logan. He paused, blinked, and turned, his blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Logan tried not to look sheepish. “Good evening, Patton,” he greeted.

“Lo-lo?” Patton said as if he was not quite it was actually Logan. Which, guessing from the slightly distant look in his eyes, he was not. His eyes refocused. “What are you doing down here?”

Logan decided to deflect the question. “What are you doing down here?”

Patton crossed his arms and Logan was sure that his plan had failed. “I was going to make a cup of tea,” Patton said. “And you?”

Logan sighed and slowly sunk down into one of the nearby chairs. His hands tightened into fists as he glared down at his lap. Patton was by his side in a second, a hesitant hand on Logan’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Lo?” Patton asked softly.

Logan knew that lying would not solve anything. If anything, it might make matters worse if Remus showed up at either the bar or cafe without warning. “Remus showed up at the hospital today,” he said quietly.

Patton stiffened next to him, his voice coming out in a choked “What?”

Logan nodded before launching into the details of what transpired earlier that day. Patton stared at Logan, his face warped into absolute shock. “I found his presence very unnerving,” Logan said, barely suppressing a shudder. 

“Like someone turned Roman into a funhouse mirror in a horror movie?” Patton asked.

Logan looked over at him, startled. Patton was staring at the grain on the table. “I keep seeing him in the Bean Queen,” Patton said. His grip on Logan’s arms tightened and his voice shook. “I feel like he’s…  _ Watching _ me. But whenever I look over, he’s not. It doesn’t make sense. I’ve never met Remus. He shouldn’t know that Roman and I are soulmates.”

Logan did not know what to say. The two of them sat in silence for several minutes until Logan asked, “How much do you know about Roman’s relationship with Remus?”

Patton’s expression shuttered and he pulled back. “It’s not in my place to say.”

Logan reached over, placing his hand on Patton’s thigh. Patton looked at him with a pitiful expression. “Patton, I need to know how dangerous Remus is,” he said. “He threatened me. Threatened  _ us _ .”

“Maybe we should just let him talk to Roman,” Patton said, sounding unsure of his words. “And he’ll leave us alone?”

“Do you think Roman would agree to that?”

Patton reached forward and cupped Logan’s cheek. “Sweetie, Roman would do anything for us.”

Logan leaned into the touch, closing his eyes a bit. “I do not want to ask that of him,” he whispered.

“Me neither. We can talk about this in the morning, okay? With Virgil and Roman.” Patton said. “We should both get to bed.”

Patton stood, but Logan did not move, just stared up at Patton and glanced towards the front door. Patton rolled his eyes before grabbing Logan’s hands. He pulled Logan to his feet before tugging him up the stairs. Logan did not really realize what was happening until Patton shoved open the door to his and Roman’s bedroom.

“Patton,” Logan hissed, trying not to wake Roman, but Patton seemed oblivious. “Patton, this is highly inappropriate.”

Logan heard a snort and a groan. Roman’s form shifted before he sat up. He was shirtless, his head turning until he focused on Logan and Patton standing in the doorway. “Heya, Pat, Specs.”

Patton dragged Logan closer to the bed. When he released Logan’s hand, he crawled over Roman, disappearing into the nest of blankets. Logan cleared his throat, thankful that the darkness hid his blush. “Well, I will-”

Roman squirmed back before patting the space next to him. Logan stared at him in disbelief. “If you want to,” Roman said with a noncommittal shrug. “Besides, Fall Out Bad Boy won’t be home until later.”

Logan glanced back at the open door, biting down on his lip. When he turned back to it, Roman huffed out a small breath. But Logan just shut the door before picking his way back to Patton and Roman’s bed. The instant Logan laid down, Roman threw the comforter over him and Patton made a happy hum.

Logan could already feel his eyelids drooping as he turned to face Roman. The actor’s breath fanned over his face and Logan could make out his smile in the darkness. Roman plucked off his glasses, leaning to put them on the bedside table. As he pulled back, he hovered over Logan before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Logan dropped an arm over Roman and Patton laced his fingers together with Logan’s. Roman wrapped his arms around Logan and pulled him closer. Any awkwardness Logan felt dissipated as he nuzzled into Roman’s bare chest.

He dozed off, content and unworried.

* * *

Logan was surprised to find Virgil in the kitchen the next morning. Patton and Roman were still sleeping. When Logan left, Roman just sleepily kissed his shoulder and rolled over to cuddle into Patton. Logan found seeing Virgil awake before noon a pleasant surprise until he saw what Virgil was cooking.

French toast.

Virgil only made french toast when he was angry. Logan realized it nearly three months into living with Virgil. That often times, his cooking reflected his emotions. Logan had never been very good at identifying emotions in conventional ways, so it was nice to have an external indicator.

Logan knew he had to approach the situation with the utmost caution. Oh no. What if Virgil was upset about him sleeping with Patton and Roman. Not in  _ that _ way. Did Virgil know it was not in that way? They all really needed to sit down and discuss this.

Virgil turned suddenly and Logan froze. Then Virgil’s tense expression softened as he tilted his head. “Did I wake you?” he asked softly.

“No,” Logan shook his head. “Of course not.”

Logan stepped into the kitchen carefully, moving to brush some stray hair out of Virgil’s face. Virgil let him, but turned away before Logan could kiss him. Logan opted to make a cup of coffee instead, pleased that it was already brewing. As he reached for a mug, he glanced at Virgil, who glared down at the french toast as if it had offended him.

“Why are you up so early?” Logan asked. It was, in fact,  _ not _ early, approaching ten o’clock. But for Virgil, this was very early.

“I kept waking up,” Virgil said, his eyebrows furrowed.

Something akin to guilt pooled in Logan’s stomach. He avoided looking at Virgil as he said, “I apologize. I should have asked before sleeping-”

Virgil snorted before bringing a hand up to cover the sound. He looked at Logan out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t apologize. You guys all looked so cute, I almost joined you.”

Logan flushed, turning away to make his coffee. “I assure you, I am not cute.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at that, but did not comment. Logan bowed his head. “Why did you not join us?”

Virgil flushed so bright that Logan thought he looked similar to a lobster. He cleared his throat, flipping the bread currently in the pan. “Bed’s too small,” Virgil said after a moment. “If we’re all going to fit, we should use your bed.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to blush. Virgil gave him that little half-smirk he always did when he managed to embarrass Logan.

“You  _ could _ lay on top of one of us,” a voice announced from the hall.

Roman strode into the kitchen, a half-awake Patton swaying behind him. Patton perked up when he smelled the food. “French toast?” he asked, his sleepy expression widening into a smile. “What’s the occasion?”

Virgil scowled back down at the bread. The room fell silent. Patton looked confused and a little upset. “Did I say something?” he asked.

Logan finished making his coffee and walked over to Patton. He leaned down next to Patton’s ear and whispered, loud enough for just Patton and Roman to hear, “He makes French toast when he is upset.”

“And on request,” Virgil huffed as he dropped the plate of egg toast on the table. Apparently, Logan’s whisper had not been quiet enough. “But yeah. Usually when I’m pissed off.”

Virgil thumped the syrup down onto the table and sat down. When the other three continued to stare at him, Virgil looked up. “Well? Dig in!”

They each settled into their spots silently, piling up their plates. Roman took the first bite. “Wow!” he said, his grin tense, but obviously trying to diffuse the tense air in the room. “For an angry food, this might the best french toast I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you,” Virgil grumbled, stabbing his fork into his food.

Patton and Logan shared a glance as they slowly ate their own. Eventually, Virgil dropped his fork and turned to Patton and Logan. “Have you told him?” he asked and Logan’s heart thumped against his chest painfully.

Roman looked between the interaction. “Told who what?”

But Virgil did not look away from Patton and Logan. His furrowed eyebrows eased, lip pulled between his teeth. “We have to talk about this,” he said, his voice taking on a note of pleading.

Patton fidgeted with his fork, staring down at the food while Logan held Virgil’s gaze. Roman just watched them, “What happened?” he asked and his voice ended on a choked note. “Is everything alright?”

Virgil looked away with a sigh. And Patton made a small whine in the back of his throat before looking over at Roman. “It’s about Remus.”

Roman immediately went rigid, that all too familiar anxious look clouding his eyes. His gaze darted between his soulmates before he asked, voice too steady and too quiet, “What happened?”

“He showed up at the hospital,” Logan said.

“And the cafe,” Patton added.

“And the bar,” Virgil muttered. “Again.”

“What?” Roman said. He sounded absolutely broken. “But how? He doesn’t- He doesn’t know you guys.”

“Apparently he does,” Virgil said before Logan or Patton could say anything. “Or at least some things. He called Logan ‘Doctor Tie’ and Patton ‘Goldilocks’.”

“You  _ talked _ to him?” Roman choked out. He looked at Patton and Logan, as if trying to decipher if they had spoken to Remus as well.

“More like he talked at me. Until Charlie kicked him out again.”

Roman’s expression bordered on panic and Logan hesitantly reached out, settling his hand on Roman’s knee. “He does not know where you are,” he tried to soothe, but that only seemed to make things worse.

“But he knows where  _ you _ are.”

“We’ll be fine, sweetie,” Patton reassured him. “Virge has got Charlie and Pam, Logan works in a hospital, and there’s always more than one person at the coffee shop.”

Roman’s expression turned pleading. “He’s Remus, Pat,” he said, bordering on a sob. “You can’t-”

“Your mother is retrieving Remus soon,” Logan said, putting more conviction in his voice than when he spoke about facts. “There is nothing to be afraid of.”

“You don’t understand,” Roman looked between all of them. His eyes were filling with tears. “He’s going to come back again and again until he gets what he wants. I just wish we fucking knew what that was.”

Logan, Virgil, and Patton all hunched in at those words. Roman noticed. “Do you… Did he say..?”

“He wants to speak with you,” Logan admitted, bowing his head in shame. “That’s all he said.”

Roman paled, his jaw twitching. He stood so suddenly that the table shook. Logan lurched forward to stop his glass of water from tipping over. Patton jumped to his feet, his eyes shining, “Roman.”

“I just… I need a minute.”

Before any of them could respond, he turned and sprinted up the stairs. Logan winced when the door slammed. Virgil dragged his knees up this chest. Patton lingered, his hand a bit outstretched. None of them looked at each other. Logan never understood the term “deafening silence” until that moment and he hated it.

The sound of a generic ringtone broke the silence. Patton absently reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He pressed it to his ear with a quiet, subdued, “Hello?”

His eyes widened and Logan and Virgil tensed. Patton gripped the phone tighter, gnawing on his bottom lip until the skin turned white. “What?” he said in a shaky voice. “Remy, wait.”

Patton set the phone down, the tears spilling over his cheeks now. Virgil was up and wrapping his arm around Patton in an instant. Patton leaned into him, wiping at his tears as quickly as they fell. “Remus is missing again.”

“Fuck,” Virgil hissed.

“Perhaps he will leave town,” Logan said, but the words rang hollow. He knew exactly what Remus was looking for.

A knock came at the door and they all nearly leapt out of their skin. Logan rose to his feet as Virgil shuffled back with Patton.

“We have to answer it,” Patton whispered.

“What if it’s Remus?” Virgil snapped.

“We cannot live our entire lives waiting for him to show up,” Logan said. Before Virgil could stop him, Logan strode out into the main hall and threw open the door without any ceremony. 

Logan could hear the other two behind him, but Logan was just frozen to the spot. Declan stood in the sleet of rain, wringing his hands together. When Logan looked over his shoulder, he indeed saw Remus standing on the sidewalk.

Virgil launched forward, catching Declan by the collar. “What did you do?!” he whisper-shouted and Logan barely managed to drag Virgil away before he punched his best friend.

“I’m definitely  _ not _ solving your problems for you, V,” Declan practically growled. The two friends glared at each other and Logan wondered if their friendship was okay. “This crazy fuck just showed up at my  _ house _ . Missy nearly bashed his goddamn head in.”

Virgil’s gaze snapped between Remus and Declan. He tugged Declan inside and Logan slammed the door closed. “Why did you bring him here?”

Declan shrugged. “He asked where you were?”

“And you were honest for once?” Logan asked incredulously. Declan could have lied his way out of this one with no problem.

“Oh  _ no _ . I did not think I was doing a good thing,” Declan pulled away from Virgil. “I’d totally throw my best friend under the bus on purpose. Jesus, V, who the fuck do you think I am?”

Virgil shoved his hand into his hair and paced the length of the hallway with a small, strangled shout. “Sorry, Dee,” he said after a moment.

Logan moved over the window, peeking through the blinds. Remus was still standing on the sidewalk, his gaze occasionally drifting up. To the window of Patton and Roman’s room, he realized. Logan turned and stumbled up the stairs. He spotted Roman before he even got to the last step.

Roman leaned back against the railing, his expression wild and panicked. He whipped around as Logan approached. “He’s here,” Roman whispered.

“He is.”

Logan flinched, glancing over at Patton behind him. Patton reached out a hand and settled it against Logan’s back. Comforting  _ him _ , not Roman. Roman’s breath came out shakily. Logan feared for a moment that he might pass out. But all he did was nod. “Okay, that make this,” he swallowed and slowly extracted himself from the railing. “Easier?”

“You do not have to see him,” Logan said.

“We can call the cops,” Patton added. “Or convince him you’re not here?”

“I can-” Roman stopped, his shoulders shaking. He shook his head. “I have to do this.”

Logan’s heart wrenched painfully as he watched Roman take several steadying breaths. Eventually, he took a step forward and then another. When he reached the staircase, Logan stepped aside, pulling Patton back with him. They trailed after Roman, Logan keeping his fingers curled around Patton’s hand. Whether Logan was trying to comfort Patton or hold him back, he couldn’t be sure.

Virgil and Declan stood in front of the door. Virgil stepped towards Roman. “Ro,” he started, but Roman shook his head. He looked over at Declan. “Can you make sure he stays on the sidewalk?”

“Not sure if I can do that, Red,” Declan chirped. 

Roman frowned at him, but Virgil just gave Declan a little shove. “We’ll keep him outside,” Virgil said. He reached for Roman’s hand and Roman gave it a squeeze before letting go. “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” Roman said in a high voice. “But I need to get him to leave.”

Virgil nodded, almost as if he understood. With a heavy sigh, he pushed open the door. They stepped outside, Declan and Virgil and Roman. Roman glanced back and Patton and Logan. He closed the door.

Patton lunged forward, but his grip on Logan’s hand was too tight and the two went tumbling. Logan turned at the last moment so he landed on his back with Patton on top. “Oh my goodness,” Patton exclaimed before he sniffled. “I’m so sorry, Lo-lo.”

A sob caught in his throat and spilled over in the next second. Patton buried his face into Logan’s shirt. Logan just clung to him, keeping his gaze on the door. It opened not a minute later. Behind his soulmates, Logan saw Remus stuff his hands into his pockets. And then, he just walked away.

Virgil turned back to Declan and whispered something. The yellow-haired man just shrugged and left. Roman clung to Virgil as they entered. Patton shuffled off of Logan and stood, his movements slow and cautious.

Logan sat up. “What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Roman croaked out. He looked more bewildered than panicked at the moment. “He didn’t say  _ anything _ .”

Logan glanced over at Virgil, who nodded as if to confirm the story. Roman took a step forward and stumbled. His knees hit the hardwood, but he did not cry out or say anything. Logan and Patton shuffled forward. “God, that’s so fucking  _ typical _ of him,” Roman shouted, half hysterical.

Logan did not understand. What had been the purpose of all of this? Setting the four of them on edge? Threatening them? Locating one of their acquaintances to find them? Just to stare at Roman and then leave? It was completely illogical. There was no point. But Roman almost seemed to understand Remus’s motives entirely.

Patton crouched down. He was not even sitting before Roman surged forward. He threw his arms around Patton and buried his face into his shoulder. A long moment of silence followed. And then Roman was sobbing, his body shaking under the weight of his cries.

At some point, Virgil dodged around them to stand next to Logan. They hovered, unsure of what to do, if they should interact.

But when Roman raised his gaze to them, his expression crumpled with tears running down his face, and reached out, they both understood him. 

Logan wrapped his arms around Roman the same time Virgil did. It could have been hours or seconds or weeks. Logan did not care. He raised his gaze, finding Patton smiling at him with just the slightest bit melancholy. Virgil had his forehead pressed to Roman’s shoulder, whispering calming words. And Roman leaned back against Logan, his heart beating so hard Logan could feel it.

“You’re safe,” Logan whispered finally. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Roman’s hair. “You’re safe and you’re home..”

Roman looked up at him, tears still flowing, but the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “I know,” he said, soft and quiet and all too sad.

One day, Logan swore, Roman was going to believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end of Remus's little arc. I might've taken Remus "There is no rhyme or reason to what I do, I just do" a little too seriously. I did have a lot of fun writing him though. And while Remus will not physically return to the story (except for, perhaps, in a one-shot), Roman still has a long way to recovery.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed.


	17. virgil alvarado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is (surprisingly) happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: referenced drinking, seclusion, implied/referenced not eating, implied anxiety, panic attacks, lots of food mentions, surprise parties, mentions of disownment, mentions of past abuse, implied sexual content, making out,

It took a while after the Remus incident to settle down. Virgil watched for him at the bar, even after Remy informed them that he was back in Maine. Patton and Logan walked to work together, even though Logan worked hours after Patton did. And Roman more or less shut down, only leaving the house to go to his therapy sessions.

But as the week came to a close, three of them remembered that the auditions for Roman's theater company's new play was coming up.

"He'll beat himself up over it if he misses them," Patton said one night after bringing Roman dinner. He only ate breakfast with Virgil in the late mornings now and Patton informed them that he was more or less just picking at his lunches and dinners.

"Is it really a good idea to push him out into the world before he is comfortable?" Logan asked. "It is possible it could have some serious repercussions."

Patton leaned forward and dropped another helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Trust me, Roman is the kind of person that needs that extra push."

Virgil listened to the discussion in silence, picking at his food. Then he noticed that Patton and Logan were looking at him, likely asking for his opinion. He sat up a bit straighter. "I think," he glanced between them. On one hand, Virgil knew that he personally hated being shoved out of his comfort zone. On the other hand, if Declan had never forced him to perform on stage, he might've never joined his band. 

"I think Pat's right…"

Logan's jaw tightened and Virgil flinched back. It wasn't often that he and Logan disagreed. They were both pragmatic and thought through situations, though Virgil did it because of anxiety and Logan because of logic. But it was why they made such a good team.

"Roman would be upset if he didn't at least try to go," Virgil explained. He knew he was talking too fast. "He probably forgot anyways and what kind of soulmates would we be if we didn't at least remind him?"

Patton's head looked like it was spinning from how quickly Virgil spoke, but Logan just sighed. "I suppose," he said with a small nod. "That is a fair assessment of the situation. How do we intend to broach the subject?"

"If I mention it tonight," Patton said. "He won't sleep."

A mutter of agreement passed through the group. Insomnia was such an ugly beast and Virgil was more than grateful that it hadn’t seemed to be plaguing Roman recently, even if he was sleeping in later than usual.

"So I'll mention it at breakfast tomorrow," Virgil muttered, already feeling a bit uncomfortable about bringing it up. 

"You don't have to if you don't want to, hun," Patton said as he reached for Virgil's hand.

Virgil smiled at him just a bit. "No, it's fine. I'll make his favorite breakfast."

He didn’t bother to add that making the food would be more of a way to calm himself down than to lure Roman in.

"Pancakes!" Patton exclaimed happily. "Roman loves pancakes,  _ especially  _ with blueberry syrup."

Virgil frowned. "I don't know how to make blueberry syrup."

Patton grinned. "I do. We can make some now so it'll be ready in the morning."

Logan stood and Virgil looked over at him, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "Don't want to help?" Virgil teased.

"I do not intend to set the kitchen on fire," Logan deadpanned. 

Patton let out a small, poorly held in giggle. Logan moved around the table and pressed a soft kiss to Virgil's lips, lingering for just the briefest moment. "I will be upstairs if you need me," Logan said against his lips before turning to Patton and kissing him as well.

"Goodnight, Lo-Lo!" Patton chimed, his cheeks flushed a beautiful carnation pink.

Logan smiled softly at the two of them before disappearing upstairs.

And that was how Virgil ended up making blueberry syrup with Patton at eight o’clock at night. They cleared up dinner quickly, decided on a background soundtrack less quickly, and got to work.

Luckily, Logan always insisted on having fruit in the house and there was plenty of blueberries sitting in the fridge. 

Virgil mostly just watched as Patton tossed the ingredients together. He sat on the counter, his legs swinging back and forth, bumping against the cabinet. The sound of the piano covers swept through the room, accompanied by Patton’s soft humming. The air felt warm and thick with a kind of emotion Virgil hadn’t felt since he was a child, cooking with Papa.

One particular memory came to mind. Papa and Dad dancing around the room while brownies baked in the oven. Adelaide sat at the counter, messing with some craft or another, her little hands stained blue and purple. Even then, Virgil always sat on the counters.

There’d been no music then. No Patton with his arm bumping Virgil’s leg every so often. No knowledge that Logan was reading and Roman was definitely watching yet another rerun of Disney movies upstairs. No constant fear that one little slip-up could lead to the entire world knowing his two little secrets.

"You play piano, right?" Patton asked suddenly.

Virgil popped open an eye, glancing at the swirling blue sludge in the pan. He raised his gaze up to Patton's face, serene and warm. Patton blinked back at him, clearly waiting for the answer.

"Yeah," Virgil bobbed his head. "First instrument I learned to play actually. Got actual lessons for that one."

Patton's eyebrows furrowed. "You didn't have guitar lessons?"

"Nah," Virgil shrugged. "My dad's actually the one that taught me to play. He probably wanted to bond me with over it, but all he played was Spanish guitar music."

"And you played punk rock?" Patton teased, his mischievous smile warm and all too nice to be taken seriously.

Virgil turned his gaze to the ceiling. "The Eagles actually," he said with a wistful smile. "I was always a fan of the classics."

When he looked back down, Patton was staring at him with an almost awestruck look, his eyes wide and glittering with a wide, beautiful smile on his face. Virgil flushed and ducked his head.

"No!" Patton exclaimed, which caused Virgil to jump in surprise. "Sorry. Sorry."

Virgil heard the click of the stove before Patton shifted until he was in between Virgil’s legs. Virgil flushed even more. “Hey,” Patton’s warm hands came to rest on either of Virgil’s cheeks. Patton lifted his head. “Please don’t ever hide your beautiful face from me.”

Virgil was sure he was as red as a tomato. Patton’s blue eyes bore into his, searching and wide. He was close enough that Virgil could feel Patton’s breath ghosting over his face. Virgil was leaning forward before he registered it.

They met in the middle, lips pressed together in a kiss that was altogether chaste and heated. One of Virgil’s hands reached up to tangle into Patton’s curls. Patton’s fingers began a descent down Virgil’s neck. In the background, the piano music swelled, a crescendo to the floaty weightlessness that overtook Virgil.

With a start, Virgil realized he was  _ actually _ tipping forward. He jerked away from Patton and latched onto the kitchen counter. Patton made a small sound torn between a gasp and a yelp, stumbling back a step. He caught himself on the kitchen table, blinking rapidly at Virgil. Virgil stared back, mortified.

“Oh my god,” Virgil hissed out, hand half-raised to reach out to Patton. “I’m so sorry.”

Patton’s startled expression melted instantaneously. He burst out laughing, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the loudest of the giggles. Virgil’s ears burned. But after a moment, Patton’s infectious laughter became too much and a snort escaped his lips. The sound only served to make Patton laugh harder and eventually, Virgil couldn’t help but join in.

Their laughter filled the kitchen and that light, airy feeling from earlier returned. It filled every inch of Virgil’s body from his head to his toes. This time, there were no bittersweet memories. Just Patton and Virgil and their joy.

It took Virgil a couple of seconds to realize that Patton had stopped. Virgil’s own laughter died down awkwardly as he caught Patton looking at him with a soft, fond expression. “Here,” Patton held out his hand.

Virgil took it without hesitation and Patton gently pulled him to his feet. He tugged Virgil a bit further before turning around. Virgil watched him, completely befuddled, but no less amused. What were they doing exactly? Patton leaned back and, with a short huff, hoisted himself onto the counter where Virgil had just been.

“There!” Patton beamed at Virgil, nose scrunched up, his face so pink that his freckles stood out in stark contrast. “Now we’re the same height.”

Virgil’s chest tightened, his stomach doing a series of flips in his stomach, his heart fluttering. Patton just continued to grin at him, one hand outstretched towards Virgil.

Virgil didn’t need any more convincing. Virgil lurched forward and dragged Patton into a searing kiss that made his head spin.

This one lasted much, much longer.

* * *

Virgil had just finished the last pancake when Roman let out a long drawn out groan and dropped into a chair. Virgil kept his back turned as he put the pan in the sink. Roman groaned again and a small smirk curled onto Virgil’s face.

“ _ Virgil _ ,” Roman whined, stomping his feet a bit.

“Yeah?”

“G’morning kiss!”

Virgil turned around, his lips pressed together in a failing attempt to hide his smile. He crossed his arms. Roman pouted.

“Please?”

With a roll of his eyes, Virgil crossed the kitchen and pressed a kiss to Roman’s lips. In the past week, the “good morning” kiss had become something of a tradition for the two of them. If it was even possible to start a tradition in a week. 

Roman smiled against Virgil’s lips. Assuming he was satisfied, Virgil made to pull back, but Roman latched onto the collar of his hoodie. When tugged him forward, Virgil practically collapsed onto his lap. Roman’s arms wound around his waist to keep him there. 

Virgil pulled back as much as he could. He dropped a finger onto Roman’s lips to stop him from kissing him again. Roman’s eyes opened, his pout returning. “Breakfast’s going to get cold,” Virgil said, breaths coming out heavily. This was most definitely  _ not _ part of the tradition, though Virgil didn’t think he’d mind adding it.

“Don’t care,” Roman grumbled.

Virgil smirked at him, “I was told you’d do anything for pancakes with blueberry syrup.”

The lust instantly disappeared from Roman’s eyes, replaced with a kind of wonder reserved for fancy pastries in a bakery. “Pancakes?” he whispered, his voice almost reverent.

Virgil tried not to laugh. “With blueberry syrup.”

Roman pulled Virgil into another mind-numbing kiss. He pulled back, just a breadth away from Virgil’s lips. “We are continuing this after pancakes,” he said, his voice low.

Virgil suppressed the shiver that ran down his back as he climbed off of Roman’s lap. There was a very big possibility Roman was actually just going to lock himself in his room after their discussion. Virgil turned back to the breakfast. “How many do you want?” he asked.

“As many as you’re willing to give me!” Roman chirped. He sounded happier than he had in days. 

Virgil’s stomach twisted. He piled four pancakes onto one plate and two onto his own. “Patton actually made the syrup,” he said as he set the plates down and went to the fridge to grab it.

“I’ll have to be sure to properly thank him,” Roman replied.

When Virgil turned back around, Roman was practically vibrating with excitement. Virgil’s chest filled with fondness and yes, love. Then mild horror as he watched Roman drown the pancakes. Then back to fondness as Roman let out the biggest moan Virgil had ever heard from someone appreciating pancakes.

“These are fucking  _ delicious _ ,” Roman exclaimed and Virgil ducked his head to hide his blush. “You and Pat cannot collab on food anymore.”

Virgil looked up at Roman with curiosity. “Why’s that?”

“Because you two will make me fat.”

“Aww,” Virgil cooed. “A chubby Roman.”

“Oh shush you.”

Virgil smirked at him. “Not like it’ll affect your career,” he shrugged. “You already can’t dance.”

“Virgil… Alvarado,” Roman exclaimed before he paused. “What  _ is _ your middle name?”

“Nunya,” Virgil said, biting down on the inside of his cheek to stop his smile from growing.

“Nunya?”

“Yeah, Nunya Business.”

“You are  _ terrible _ ,” Roman groaned before taking another bite of his pancakes. “Is there cinnamon in these pancakes?”

Virgil was surprised he noticed underneath all of that syrup. He nodded and Roman beamed at him. “They are truly sublime, Dark and Deary. How ever do you do it?”

Virgil just shook his head. He let Roman control the conversation for a few minutes, asking Virgil about work and about rehearsals. Eventually, Roman was holding out his plate, begging for seconds. How could Virgil not oblige?

He realized as he turned his back that it was the perfect time to bring it up. “So, are you still going to the auditions?” he asked, attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible.

There was a pause and then a hissed, “ _ Shit _ .”

Virgil turned around, holding Roman’s plate, and Roman stared back at him with wide eyes. “I completely forgot,” he said, his breath hitching.

“Hey,” Virgil moved closer and set the plate down. “It’s okay.”

Roman shook his head rapidly and buried his face in his hands. Virgil knelt down next to Roman, letting him run through his entire lexicon of swears. “Dammit!” Roman looked up suddenly and Virgil jumped back, startled. “With all this Remus nonsense, I completely blanked on it. I don’t even know what the play is  _ about _ .”

“It’s okay,” Virgil repeated, settling his hand on Roman’s knee.

“No, it’s not!” Roman turned his gaze to Virgil. “How can I expect to be a Broadway legend if I’m letting one stupid little thing get to my head? I mean, I have to do the audition. Of  _ course _ I do. But what if Remus shows up again? What if I get a good part and I have to quit because-”

Virgil cut Roman off by kissing him. It seemed to work because Roman sighed into the kiss, his hand going up to cup Virgil’s cheek. Eventually, Virgil pulled back, but Roman’s hand lingered.

“Look,” Virgil said, cutting through the fond look on Roman’s face. “I get it. Really, I do. After I told my dads I have three soulmates, they basically disowned me. I was torn up about it for  _ months _ . I still kinda am.”

Virgil looked away and took a steadying breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second. When he looked back, Roman was still watching him. “During that time, my band took a break because I couldn’t handle it. Music reminded me so much of my dads and I was just so angry and depressed that I needed to take a step back.”

“Really?” Roman whispered.

“Really,” Virgil nodded. “It’s okay to take a break, Roman. Or it’s okay to jump right back in if it feels right. But no matter what, your dreams aren’t going anywhere. And I’ve heard from Thomas that the theater company is more than happy to have you back when  _ you’re _ ready. If it’s not this production or the next one, that’s okay.”

Roman’s eyes took on a shine before tears spilled over his cheeks. A wide grin spread across his face and he nodded. “Thank you,” he said wetly.

Virgil just smiled at him and pecked him on the lips. “Let’s finish breakfast, okay?”

“Okay.”

Roman didn’t audition for that production. And you know what? That was okay.

* * *

Winter turned to spring in the blink of an eye and in that time, Virgil had never been happier. Somewhere along the way, the arbitrary term of soulmates became boyfriends. They never really sat down and discussed it, not out loud anyways. Together, the four of them just settled into a routine that could only be described as a relationship.

And that came with big requirements like planning birthday parties.

“So you never celebrate it on the actual day?” Virgil asked, sucking on one of the lollipops stolen from the Mickey Mouse pinata currently sitting on the table.

Virgil, Logan, and Patton were all sitting in the  _ Bean Queen _ after hours in an attempt to get everything set up for Roman’s 26th birthday. When Patton first brought up the subject of a surprise party, Virgil and Logan had both been adamantly against it. Neither one of them much liked the idea of a group of people scaring the living daylights out of them in an attempt to have fun.

But then Patton explained that he always threw surprise parties for Roman. Because Roman was one of those weirdos that actually liked that kind of thing.

“Nope!” Patton said as he stirred the icing mix. Most of the desserts had been prepared beforehand, including the cake sitting in the back, but Patton insisted that icing was always best fresh.

Virgil reached out and swiped up some of the icing that had splashed onto Patton’s nose. Patton giggled, leaning up to press a kiss to Virgil’s cheek.

“This seems like a terrible idea,” Logan said. At the moment, he was attempting to untangle the Christmas lights he and Virgil bought the year before and never used. “If he does not know when it is celebrated, how is he supposed to plan around it?”

Patton paused and whirled around to look at Logan. “You know, I never thought of that.”

“Clearly,” Logan said with a scoff. After a moment, he sighed and half-heartedly tossed the lights up. “I cannot untangle these. It is impossible.”

“Maybe we should just buy new ones?” Virgil suggested.

Logan shook his head. He actually looked a little disappointed. “That is not in the budget.”

Patton wrinkled his nose. “You and your budget.”

Logan turned towards him. “Once I get my license, we do not have to worry so much about budget,” he said. He turned around primly. “Until then, we are, as Virgil once put it “broke ass bitches”.”

“Virgil!” Patton admonished and Virgil looked at the two of them in disbelief.

“I didn’t say it!” he exclaimed, face burning.

“You have most definitely said it at least once,” Logan stated.

“I meant I didn’t say it just now,” Virgil growled. “Why isn’t Logan in trouble?”

Patton smiled at Virgil as he added more food coloring to the peach colored icing. “Logan isn’t in trouble because he was paraphrasing,” he said.

“Oh sure,” Virgil huffed. “Turned that language junk against me, why don’t you?”

“I believe Patton did in fact just do that.”

“L,” Virgil said. “I love you, but please,  _ please _ shut up?”

Patton turned back around as Logan gave Virgil an amused smile that was his equivalent to sticking his tongue out. Virgil flipped him off in response. “Virgil,” Patton warned.

Virgil just sighed and stuck his lollipop back in his mouth. 

The next couple of hours passed like that, sharing stories and teasing one another. At one point, the three of them got  _ very  _ distracted when Logan managed to untangle the lights. How could they not? When Logan looked so beautiful in their glow?

They didn’t really have to worry about time. Roman had spent most of the day at the theater. Even though he’d decided to sit the play out, he still went over to help with props and costumes. After that, Remy and Emile were supposed to pick him up and take him out to dinner under the guise of “your boyfriends are going to steal you away for your birthday so we need to do something before then”. It was, apparently, a tactic Patton had never used before.

Eventually, guests started to filter in and Virgil had to scare a few confused would-be customers away.

“Hi, Virgil!” Thomas greeted with a wide grin.

“Sup, Thomas,” Virgil gave Logan’s twin a two fingered salute before letting him into the cafe. “Kris.”

Patton bounced away from another set of guests over to Thomas and Kris, his grin widening ever so slightly. “Tomothy! Kristopher!”

Thomas laughed while Virgil quirked an eyebrow at his little blonde boyfriend. “Tomothy?”

“Patton has insisted on calling Thomas nothing else,” Logan said as he joined their little group. He gave his twin a short hug and nodded to Kris. “It is good to see you.”

“I was starting to think you were avoiding us,” Thomas said, clearly teasing, but Logan’s face paled.

“I would never,” Logan said quickly, looking very apologetic. “I have just been occupied with-”

Patton moved closer to Logan and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “He is messing with you, dear,” he said softly.

Logan’s shoulders eased by the slightest amount before Thomas pulled him into another hug.

“I am truly sorry I have not made more time for you as of late,” Logan said quietly.

“It’s fine, Loganberry,” Thomas said.

“ _ Loganberry _ ?” Patton asked with a slightly hysterical tone.

Virgil chuckled as Logan flushed. “I fear my darkest secret has been exposed,” Logan muttered, a bit strangled.

Thomas grinned wickedly. Patton took Logan by the hands and spun in a quick circle with him, singing “Loganberry” in a tune that sounded suspiciously like  _ Row, Row Your Boat _ . Virgil smiled warmly at them. Thomas joined in, clapping his hands to the rhythm. A few of the present guests stared at them, but none of the looks appeared malicious.

“You seem so upset,” Declan said right next to Virgil’s ear.

Virgil jumped back from his best friend with a small gasp, hand going over his heart. “Christ, Dee,” Virgil hissed. “Warn a guy!”

“So sorry,” Declan said, though his grin suggested otherwise. He stepped back from Virgil. “I mean it though, dude. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile this much since the Jonas Brothers got back together.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, stilling briefly when he felt a palm lay across his lower back. He glanced over at Logan and relaxed, leaning into him. Declan rolled his eyes. “You two are so cute!” he quipped and Virgil smirked at him.

“Now I can make you three times more uncomfortable than you and Missy make me.”

Declan stuck out his tongue as Virgil cast a glance around the cafe. “Where is Missy?” he asked. It was rare to the two of them separated.

“We split,” he said with a shrug and Virgil looked at him incredulously. “Fine, her moms are in town. She might swing by later.”

“Hiya, Dee!” Patton greeted as he bounced over to them.

Declan shuffled a bit in place. Virgil knew that Declan didn’t mind Patton’s presence in theory, but Patton always seemed to take his jokes a bit too seriously. And it was harder for him to purposefully filter himself. “Hi, Patton,” he greeted, the smile on his face genuine regardless of his reservations.

Patton’s eyebrows furrowed before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A grin split across his face. “He’s coming!” he exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The cafe immediately burst into a scampering mess of young adults diving behind booths and tables and decorations. Patton tugged Virgil and Logan behind the counter before switching off all of the lights. Virgil got out his phone, double and triple checking that it was connected to the bluetooth speakers. Logan’s hand settled over his as he crouched down. Virgil opened the Spotify playlist he’d spent the last two weeks working on.

A hush fell over the building as the sound of keys in the lock rattled around. The door opened and Virgil heard Roman’s tell-tale grumble. “I can’t believe you forgot-”

Patton flicked on the lights as everyone shouted “Happy Birthday!”. Virgil turned on the music at the same time, making a television perfect scene. His heart swelled, too big for his chest when he saw the blinding grin splitting across Roman’s face.

Patton scuttled Logan and Virgil forward towards their boyfriend. Roman’s grin widened, something Virgil didn’t know was possible. “You all did this?” he asked, his voice impossibly soft.

Virgil shuffled. “Yeah…”

“Affirmative.”

“Yup!”

Roman’s eyes started to fill with tears and Virgil’s mind raced to the only possible explanation. He  _ told _ Patton- Roman reached for Virgil’s hand and pulled him into a searing kiss. When he pulled back, Virgil had to blink the stars away from his vision. He managed to do so as Roman pulled Patton into a sweet, almost movie-worthy kiss. Judging from Logan’s frazzled look, he’d also been kissed senseless.

“Thank you,” Roman said when he pulled away from Patton.

Virgil didn’t even have to drink anything to sedate his usual party nerves. After all, he felt almost delirious with happiness.

* * *

Virgil should’ve known it never lasted.

It happened when he and Logan were the only one’s home. The morning had been blissful, almost perfect. When Patton got up for his shift, he gave all three of them slow, lazy kisses. And when Roman was woken up by a phone call from someone at the theater company, he gave them quick pecks before leaving.

Virgil and Logan didn’t get up for several more hours, mostly because Logan complained about having a migraine. Migraines were always a bit of a scare for Logan, even the most basic ones from dehydration and stress. Virgil understood. Migraines had been the first symptom for Logan’s mother.

So they laid in bed until Logan quietly complained that he was hungry. Even then, it took them at least thirty minutes to drag themselves out of bed. When they got downstairs, Virgil was pleasantly surprised to find that Patton left some danishes from the cafe on the counter. He must’ve snuck them in when he got home the night before. There was also still some leftover treats from the birthday party the week before.

They settled down to eat when a knock sounded at the door. Logan blinked at Virgil blearily. “Deliveries?” he asked, still clearly half-asleep.

Virgil shrugged. He hadn’t ordered anything. And to his knowledge, neither had Patton or Roman. He pushed back from the table, pressing a kiss to Logan’s temple. “I got it.”

“Thank you,” Logan muttered before going back to eating his pastry.

Virgil walked towards the front door, humming a tune that had been stuck in his head. He was supposed to get together with the band later, so he hoped it would stick around long enough for him to bring it up to them. Maybe he should record it before then?

He opened the door without really thinking about it.

And then he froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

James Alvarado turned when the door opened, pushing his familiar glasses frames up. He looked at least a decade older than he had looked when Virgil last saw him, gray inching along the temples of his dark hair. His eyes looked tired, worry lines etched into his forehead. And the smile on his lips was strained and tight.

Virgil’s hand itched to slam the door closed in his face. But he found that he was made of stone, unable to move or act. How did he find Virgil? What was he doing here? Virgil tried to remind himself to breathe, but the thought seemed like a distant shout from the other side of a vacant building. He could feel his chest constricting, the walls edging closer. Spots danced on the edges of Virgil’s vision. If he could just shout for Logan or sit down or-

“Hi, Little Cloud,” Papa said.

Virgil blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, Papa's home. >.<
> 
> Anyways, these are going to be last chapters {three more}. And then I will be accepting requests for one-shots within this universe on my [Tumblr](https://felilla.tumblr.com/). So if there's any holes you want filled in within the narrative, or just some fluff or angst you need, feel free to ask about it.
> 
> I also may write some other fandoms in this same universe, so feel free to ask about that too! I might not know your fandom though, so please bear that in mind.
> 
> Patton is next: Summary: Beware the ire of a little blonde man.


	18. patton blumenthal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wrath of a gentle man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied/mentioned child neglect, anger, hospitals, mention of IVs, blood mention, implied/referenced (alluded) homophobia/polyamphobia

The waiting room at the hospital was empty, though Patton shouldn't have been surprised. This was a private hospital after all, although he couldn't understand why Logan chose a private hospital of all things. Logan was such a big activist for free healthcare, even as a future neurosurgeon. It made no sense. And yes, he was rambling to distract himself from the fact that Virgil was the one  _ in _ the hospital. And yes, he was distracting himself from the fact that he didn't know the reason why. And yes-

Patton's gaze zoned in on Logan and Roman as soon as he entered the waiting room. Logan was pacing the length of the room, completely unaware of the glares and pitying gazes the other occupants gave him. Roman had his head in his hands, ginger mop draped over his fingernails. 

Patton hoped he didn’t keep them waiting for too long. It was kinda hard to just up and leave work, even when Remy was more than accommodating for emergencies like this.

Roman looked up when Logan stopped and met Patton's gaze.

Patton attempted a smile, but it cracked the moment they both hurried towards him. Patton dove into Logan's arms when he was close enough and Roman encased them both.

The questions came bubbling out before Patton could stop them. "Is he okay? What happened? Is he conscious? Did he fall? Sick? Worse?"

Logan's lips pressed to the top of Patton's head and Patton fell silent, his breaths coming out uneven and slow. 

"He's fine," Logan whispered, though his voice was tight. "He just hit his head pretty hard on the way down."

They all separated and Patton looked between his soulmates' eyes. They didn't appear to be lying. "What happened?" he asked again.

Roman's gaze darkened before he jerked his chin sharply to the side. "Why don't you ask  _ him _ ?"

Patton's eyebrows furrowed as he followed Roman's glare. His eyes settled on an older man, hunched over and clearly trying to look like he wasn't watching them. Patton looked back at his soulmates. "Who-"

"One of Virgil's fathers, James," Logan said. Patton had never heard him sound so vehement.

His father.

Patton's mind raced to the stories Virgil had relayed to him, sometimes late at night when the others had gone to bed. Sometimes with Roman or Logan or both present. To the entire unfiltered conversations carried out when Patton had been Pattycake and Virgil had been Stormcloud.

His stomach twisted and, for the briefest moment, he thought he might be sick. 

**STORMCLOUD** :  **They probably just forgot… Again.**

Patton's fingers curled into fists.

**STORMCLOUD** :  **They're on vacation in Colorado. I'm staying home to watch the dog.**

Patton's feet moved without him.

**STORMCLOUD** :  **I didn't really see the point in telling them.**

Patton could hear Roman and Logan saying something, but the blood rushed in his ears so fast and loud that their words became garbled nonsense.

**STORMCLOUD** :  **It's fine.**

**STORMCLOUD** :  **It's okay.**

**STORMCLOUD** :  **I'm fine.**

**STORMCLOUD** :  **I'm okay.**

**STORMCLOUD** :  **It happens all the time.**

Patton stopped in front of James Alvarado, his arms crossed, breaths coming out in hiss between his teeth.

"What are you doing here?" Patton asked, the quiet anger in his voice unfamiliar to his ears. 

Patton wasn't a quiet kind of angry. He was a thunderstorm, a hurricane. Loud and emotional and unyielding. He was passionate and vocal and rage incarnate. This fury ran deeper, a stream in Patton’s consciousness that had only been tapped into once before when he and Roman fought all those years ago.

James flinched just a bit, raising his gaze up to Patton's face. His hazel eyes reflected something resigned and sad. Patton faltered for the briefest second. "Who are you?" James asked, his voice quiet and gentle, but shaky. His eyes shifted from Logan and Roman, back to Patton.

" _ I  _ am one of Virgil's soulmates," Patton snapped, his anger back as quickly as it had slipped away. "Who are  _ you _ ?"

"James," James Alvarado said. "Virgil's-"

"I swear to every god in every religion that if you say "father", I will drag you outside and physically fight you."

Patton didn't understand where the violence came from, wasn't even aware that this kind of unhinged rage lived inside of him.

James's eyes widened a fraction. "But I am his-"

No," Patton said flatly. "You gave up that right the moment you decided that because Virgil was different, he was wrong. Bad.  _ Sinful _ ."

"I’ve never said any of that," James tried. His eyes looked shiny, his jaw tight. 

Did he  _ honestly _ think he had the right to cry about this? When Virgil had spent so many nights sobbing because his family didn't love him? Because he felt alone at school, at home, out in the world? And the only person he could turn to was a faceless friend or a little sister he didn't want to worry?

"You didn't have to!" Patton's voice raised a pitch.

Patton felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, ready to snap at the intruder until he saw Logan's steady brown eyes.

"I'm not sure this is the right place for this," Logan said softly. He looked just as angry as Patton and sent James a withering glare over Patton’s shoulder.

Patton suddenly became aware of all of the stares focused on him. The security guard in the corner looked ready to intervene. Patton took a step back, gritting his teeth together.

James scrambled to his feet, as if he had just been waiting for the space to rise. "I'm here to fix this," he said, talking so quickly that it got tangled into the syllables of his accent. "To make this right."

"I don't think you can," Roman said from behind Patton. Patton nodded firmly.

"You have to understand," James said.

"I don't want to understand," Patton said, reaching underneath his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. His anger became bitter resignation. "I  _ never _ want to understand how anyone could hate their own child."

"I love Virgil," James snapped. The words hung in the air, drawn out and so convincingly said that Patton almost believed him. James took a step closer. "Don't ever say I don't love my children."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Patton saw Roman tense. He didn’t need to see his soulmate’s expression to know the emotions raging inside of him. Patton reached back and tangled his fingers with Roman's. "Don't talk to him like that," Roman growled.

"I sacrificed everything for my children," James said, then he looked away with a soft sigh. "Everything."

Patton wasn’t sure what to say. The anger was still there, boiling beneath the surface of his skin, but Logan was right. This was not the time to cause a scene, not when Virgil was hidden in one of these (likely) overly fancy rooms.

So instead of responding, he turned away, his hand still entwined with Roman’s. Logan turned with them, but his gaze lingered on Jame for just a moment longer before they all moved to the other side of the waiting room and sat down. Patton squished himself deeper in the plush chairs because, of course, this private hospital would have nice, plush chairs.

“You’re shaking, Patton,” Logan said gently as he took Patton’s free hand. He started to rub circles into Patton’s skin with his thumb, the movement bordering on a massage.

“I’m sorry,” Patton murmured as he turned to bury his face into Roman’s shoulder.

Roman automatically reached up and carded his fingers into Patton’s curls. Logan leaned up against Patton, still massaging his hand. None of them spoke; they didn’t really need to.

Someone burst into the room in a flurry and when Patton looked up, he was surprised to see Adelaide. Virgil’s sister looked borderline frantic in her white sundress, a coat thrown over the thin fabric. It was as if she’d thrown on the first thing she found in her closet.

Adelaide’s eyes landed on Logan and she started towards them. Then she stopped. Patton knew the exact moment she saw her father. Apparently, James did too because he started to rise.

But Adelaide just turned away quickly and hurried towards Virgil’s soulmates. She combed a hand through her tangled blonde hair, offering them a flimsy smile. “Is he okay?”

Logan stood, but he didn’t release his grip on Patton’s hand. He nodded, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “Virgil is stable.”

Adelaide slumped like a marionette with cut strings. She shuffled forward before pulling Logan into a tight hug that bordered on bone-crushing. Logan awkwardly returned the sentiment with his one free arm. When Adelaide pulled back, she turned and gave Roman and Patton a quick squeeze. She opened her mouth to say something when the door opened yet again and a nurse stepped in.

Patton immediately didn’t like the look of her. She gave the room the barest cursory glance and recited in a dull voice. “Friends and family of Virgil Alvarado?”

Patton shot a glare in James’s direction, but the older man seemed more interested in watching them than inserting himself into the group. Logan gave Patton’s hand a small tug and he rose with Roman.

The nurse startled when the four of them scurried up to her. Her face schooled into an impassive expression that Patton understood as the “customer service glare. 

“Is Virgil okay?” Patton asked before anyone else had the opportunity to speak.”

“Um,” the nurse’s gaze shifted between them, landing on the smattering of white soulmarks on their hands. Her eyes settled on Roman’s knuckles. “Relationship to the patient?”

“Sister,” Logan explained with a gesture to Adelaide. She offered the nurse the barest of waves. Logan gestured the three of them. “Soulmates.”

The nurse blinked and her expression turned distinctly skeptical. “You don’t have to lie,” she said after a moment and Patton felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “You can just say you’re his partners.”

“We  _ are _ his soulmates,” Roman growled, his voice dropping to a register Patton only heard before a fight.

“Of course you are, hun,” the nurse replied, deceptively sweet.

Patton couldn’t find his voice to respond. New York City was supposed to be progressive with unconventional soulmate situations. What was wrong with this hospital, a hospital Patton was pretty sure James decided on.

“They  _ are  _ his soulmates,” a voice said from the side and Patton glanced over at James in surprise. He was watching the nurse with a steady gaze that just screamed “say something else”.

Patton now felt uncomfortable for an entirely different reason. Beside him, Adelaide had stiffened, staring at her father as if she didn’t know the man in front of her. Anger curled in Patton’s stomach again; the look on her face meant that she’d probably never seen James defend Virgil like that before.

“I-” the nurse looked between all of them, swallowing. “Yes, of course. Follow me.”

As they began to file out, Patton glanced over his shoulder. James had returned to his seat and he gave Patton the barest of nods when he met his gaze. Roman pulled Patton along.

Patton stepped closer to the nurse, reasking the question that had been left unanswered. “Is Virgil okay?”

“Physically, he is fine,” the nurse said with a cheery facade that Patton saw through in an instant. “But he hasn’t spoken since he woke up.”

Patton’s stomach twisted. Virgil must’ve been really emotionally wrung out to go nonverbal like that. He just wanted to hurry and get to his boyfriend and hold him, but Roman’s grip tightened on his hand to slow his steps.

They turned down some halls before stopping in front of a door that had Alvarado written on it in messy, almost unreadable handwriting. The nurse pushed open the door and for the briefest, irrational second, Patton worried that Virgil wouldn’t be on the other side.

Patton’s gaze travelled over the room, the couch in the corner, the recliners by the bed. He tried not to flinch back from the beep of the heart monitor. His gaze settled on the bed and there he was. Virgil looked paler than usual as he picked at his blanket, but it was Patton’s Storm regardless.

Virgil looked up as they entered and Patton’s heart gave a painful lurch when she saw the bandage tied around his boyfriend’s head. Virgil scowled at the nurse, but it quickly melted into a small, soft smile when he saw the four of them shuffle in behind her.

The nurse strode towards Virgil and said something to him in a low voice. He glared at her in response. Patton couldn’t hear his words, but her tone grew more insistent until he rolled his eyes (with a small wince) and gave her a single, abrupt nod.

Seemingly satisfied, the nurse left, keeping her gaze away from them as she passed. Patton gripped Logan and Roman’s hands tighter.

The moment the door closed, Adelaide launched herself forward. She yanked her brother into a fierce hug that he returned much less enthusiastically, a fact that didn’t seem to deter her in the slightest. She pulled back slightly, whispering something to him urgently. His gaze hardened as tears filled Adelaide’s eyes. “I didn’t talk to him, no,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “What do you think-”

Virgil hunched in on himself. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

Patton knew he was lying about at least one of those things. Out of his two dads, Virgil had always been closer to James. He’d told Pattycake, more than once, that rejection from his Papa was always so much worse. James taught him how to cook, how to paint. When Patton learned that his other dad taught him how to play guitar, he’d been surprised. 

A few weeks later, when Patton caught Virgil tapping out a beat, Virgil told him that his Papa was really the one that got him into music. It’d been a way for Virgil to get out his creative energy without giving his dads a heart attack by getting paint on his hands. Patton had held Virgil until they went to cuddle on the couch and watch some cheesy romcom. Roman and Logan got home a few hours later with pizza and ice cream with no prompting from Patton or Virgil.

That moment probably cemented the idea that they were all soulmates in Patton’s mind. Cemented the idea that he would always love these three men, equally and fiercely and with all his heart.

“Virge-” Adelaide started.

But Virgil just shook his head, jaw tight and eyes panicked. Patton broke away from Roman and Logan. He hoped the approach the entire situation as delicately as possible. His other two boyfriends weren’t far behind.

Adelaide hipped back until she could safely drop into one of the recliners by the bed. Patton moved around to the other side, stepping over wires and cords. He tried to ignore the fact that Virgil had an IV in his arm because Virgil was in the hospital.

Slowly, Patton sat down on the edge of the bed. When he reached for Virgil’s hand, Virgil latched on, holding onto it as if he was dangling over a cliff and Patton was his only lifeline. Roman quickly took the space on Virgil’s other side while Logan stood at the foot of the bed, curling his fingers around Virgil’s ankle.

“Are you okay?” Patton asked, quiet and gentle.

Virgil shook his head with a tiny “no”. His gaze shifted up to Logan. “Sorry if I scared you, L.”

Logan winced and Patton held out his free hand, which Logan took without hesitation. It twisted Patton’s arm at an odd angle, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.

There had been so much panic when Virgil passed out. Logan called Patton, more hysterical and frantic than Patton had ever heard him. Over and over, he had continued to repeat. “There’s so much blood. I don’t know what to do. There’s so much blood.”

James must’ve called the ambulance because Logan’s first instinct hadn’t been to call 911. It had been to call Patton.

Logan, a logical, practical man training to be a medical professional, called his boyfriend before the paramedics. 

“I was very,” Logan swallowed thickly. “Alarmed.”

A flash of guilt passed over Virgil’s face as he dipped his head. Patton just gripped his hand a bit tighter. The silence hung in the air for a few seconds.

“I love you,” Virgil blurted out before slapping his free hand over his mouth and hiding his face in embarrassment.

Patton’s face immediately flared bright red, his breath hitching. When he looked over at Roman and back at Logan, they both appeared equally caught off guard. Logan, perhaps a little less, being more accustomed to the words from Virgil.

Roman opened his mouth first, only to promptly close it. Then he opened it again, this time a pout forming on his face. "I wanted to be the first one to say it," he muttered before he turned towards Logan, face set into a serious expression. "Logan, I-"

"I love you too," Logan said, so quickly that it cut off Roman's voice. He was very purposefully looking away from them at some spot on the wall. "And I love you as well, Patton. And I love Virgil."

"That is so not fair!" Roman exclaimed, throwing the hand not on Virgil's arm into the air. "I didn't get to say it first to  _ any _ of you!"

"Not even Patton?" Virgil asked curiously.

Patton giggled with a shake of his head. Then he noticed all three of his boyfriends were watching him and let out an enthusiastic peal of laughter. "I love you. All of you," he could feel his lip wobbling, the tears forming in his eyes. "So,  _ so _ much."

Roman leaned over Virgil to wipe the tears from Patton's eyes as Virgil raised Patton's hand and pressed a kiss to it. Patton felt a hand on his back, felt the bed shift under an additional weight as Logan leaned his forehead onto Patton's shoulder.

"You're all hopeless," Adelaide said, not looking up from her phone. She was smiling softly though and Patton recognized a proud look when he saw one.

He supposed she wasn't used to seeing her brother be so emotionally open. Patton remembered Storm telling him about his little sister, about how he wanted to protect her, about how they would drop everything for each other. About how Virgil never wanted to burden her.

Looking back, hearing about Virgil's bond with Adelaide was probably what made Patton so excited to be a big brother in the first place.

They all laughed at Adelaide's comment in their own distinct ways. A short one from Logan, a giggle from Patton, a snort from Virgil, a loud guffaw from Roman. To Patton, it sounded like the tempo of music, like the patter of a rainstorm, like the cackle of electricity.

Roman sighed dramatically before pulling his legs up and curling into Virgil's side. Virgil looked over at him, eyes wide. "Don't do that," he said, gaze flickering to the door. "We're gonna get in trouble."

"Don't care," Roman mumbled into his arm. "Missed you."

Virgil rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he reached up to wrap an arm around Roman. "You saw me this morning."

"Too long."

Patton shuffled a bit closer to lean forward and press his forehead to Virgil's chest. He listened to the sound of Virgil's heartbeat as Logan, one hand still settled on Patton's back, situated himself partially on Virgil's lap.

Virgil sucked in a breath, but when Patton pulled away to check on him, Virgil just wrapped his arm around him to hold him tighter. "Don't go," he whispered.

"Never," Patton replied and the other two echoed his sentiment.

Adelaide groaned. "Stop being cute!"

Judging by her huff, Virgil stuck his tongue out at her. They all stayed like that for a minute until Adelaide stood up, gaining their attention. "I'm thirsty," she said. "Do you guys want anything?"

They all shook their heads and she shrugged before leaving. Silence fell over the room, thick, but not uncomfortable. Patton dropped his head back onto Virgil's chest.

"I'm going to have to talk to him, aren't I?" Virgil said, his voice soft, but his chest rumbling with the words.

"You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable," Patton said, gritting his teeth.

Logan hummed an agreement, but when Roman didn't say anything, they all looked over at him. Their redheaded boyfriend stared down at the sheets, his expression contemplative.

"Ro?" Patton said quietly, reaching out his free hand to set on Roman's thigh.

Roman looked up at Patton, then at Virgil. "I think," he said before pausing and shaking his head. "Nevermind."

"No," Virgil said. His voice sounded right and Patton was aware that they all knew  _ exactly _ what Roman was going to say.

"I think you should talk to him," Roman said, looking away from them. "Seeing Remus was…  _ Really  _ fucking disturbing, but I think, that in some weird way, it also provided closure? And it was really something I needed."

Roman turned back to Virgil suddenly, his expression determined and warm and caring. Patton felt his heart swell at the look. "But if you're not ready, you're not ready. No one is forcing you to do anything. If we have to smuggle you out of this hospital and hide you at Remy's or Thomas's or Declan's so you don't have to see you dad, then we will."

Virgil cracked a small smile at that. Then he shook his head with the tiniest of laughs. Logan cleared his throat and they all looked at him. "I believe that Roman's sentiment may have some merit," he said, adjusting his glasses. "I do not think that any of us expect you to reconcile with your father, Virgil, but a discussion might do your mental health some good."

Patton pouted, but he knew they were right. He knew that he just wanted to sequester Virgil away and keep him—keep  _ all _ of them— from all the pain in the world, but that was unrealistic. After a moment, he nodded, not trusting his voice. He buried his face into Virgil's chest again, wishing for the familiar feel of his boyfriend's hoodie beneath his fingers.

Soon, Patton reminded himself. He'd probably have to wash it when he got home. At the thought of blood on Virgil's favorite hoodie, Patton's stomach twisted. Virgil must've felt him tense because he dropped his head on Patton's head, nuzzling his hair.

"Will you all stay with me when I do talk to him?" Virgil asked.

"We are not going anywhere," Logan said. "I do not even want to let you out of my sight."

Virgil jiggled his leg and said with a tight voice. "I'm sorry, L."

Logan paused before he shifted ever so slightly. "It is quite alright," he said before adding. "Please try to avoid it in the future."

"As long as no more estranged family members show up out of nowhere," Virgil said. Patton heard a laugh in his voice, but he could hear Virgil's heart pounding. "I'll be fine."

"We really do seem to have a problem with that," Roman said bitterly.

"At least we have each other!" Patton chimed. He always knew that there was a possibility of his grandparents trying to be a part of his life again, but he wasn't sure Logan had any odd members lurking around.

"It has been a stressful couple of months," Logan muttered.

"We need a vacation," Roman exclaimed and Patton knew he was just trying to be silly, but something stirred in his chest and he sat up.

Virgil made a small sound of protest, but Patton just looked at all of them with a grin. "Let's do it!" he said. "Let's go on a vacation!"

They all blinked at Patton, but his excitement didn’t falter for a single moment.

"That might be difficult. We are, to paraphrase, 'broke ass bitches'," Logan said.

Patton let the cursing slide, his grin widening. "We don't need to go anywhere fancy," he said before leaning down and resuming his former position. "I'll be happy as long as I'm with all of you."

Roman chuckled and rolled his eyes as Logan just moved closer to Patton. After a moment, the air left Virgil’s chest in a small whoosh. Virgil nodded. “Okay, so talk to my dad and then go on vacation?” he muttered before a small yawn escaped him. “Sounds good, but first, how about a nap?”

Patton bobbed his head, his eyelids already slipping closed. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I was super sick, which was an update posted on my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/). I am also working on two original novels, if you want to see updates about those!


	19. roman carroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking and planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: hospitals, mentions of parental death, mentions of divorce, implied/referenced {alluded} homophobia, implied sexual content

Roman slipped away from Virgil once everyone had dozed off. For a quick second, Virgil huffed out a breath and reached out a hand, but then he just shifted closer to Patton. Roman smiled at the sight.

He loved them all. So, so much. He wondered if there would ever be enough words to express how he felt about them. Probably not. Everything that came to mind felt inadequate.

His eyes shifted to the bandage around Virgil’s head and his chest clenched. He knew it was irrational, it was so  _ so _ irrational, but he just wanted to keep them safe. First from Remus, now from Virgil’s dad. But he couldn’t protect them from everything. Over the years, he had come to realize that.

There was going to be hardships, but if anything, he knew that it would all work out in the end.

He quietly left the room.

The hall was quiet and more or less empty, much different from the bustling activity Roman was used to in hospitals. He’d been in and out of them a lot as a child. Mostly because of stupid things Remus did.

At the thought of his brother, he felt a sense of uneasy roil in his stomach. He still had some healing to do, he knew that. But he also knew that his soulmates knew that too. And maybe, they all had some kind of healing to do. Together.

He leaned back against the wall as the door clicked open. Logan stepped out, closing the door quietly behind him. He shifted his gaze to Roman as he ruffled his hair to fix it. It didn’t look any better.

“Here,” Roman said as he stepped forward. He pushed back Logan’s hair and tucked the strays away. “Perfect.”

Logan’s cheeks tinted and he looked away. Roman kept his hand on Logan’s cheek, stroking the line of his cheekbone. “Are you okay?” Roman asked him.

Logan gave a small nod. “I am… Better now that Virgil is safe.”

Roman frowned. “Something is bothering you.”

Again, Logan nodded, but this time he pulled back from Roman, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He stared down at the floor, lips pressed into a frown. “What if,” he said softly. “What if I am not good enough to be a neurosurgeon?”

What? Roman had expected several different things.  _ That _ had not been one of them. “Why would you think that?” he asked instead.

“I just,” Logan made a small frustrated sound. “When Virgil hit his head, I could not think, I could not  _ act _ . I called Patton instead of the paramedics. As if that would help the situation. What if something goes wrong like that in the operating room?”

He looked over at Roman, clearly conflicted and miserable. “What if I fail someone else? Like I failed Virgil.”

Roman blinked at his boyfriend. And then he stepped closer and gently took his hand. Logan didn’t pull away. “First of all, you didn’t fail Virgil,” Roman said. “He’s fine. You panicked. It  _ happens _ , Logan. It happens to everyone.”

Logan turned to Roman, eyes blazing. “It does not happen to me!”

Roman knew that Logan wasn’t angry at him. He was just  _ angry _ . Maybe at himself or the situation or all of it. So Roman just rubbed his hand soothingly. “It’s different,” Roman said. “One of us getting hurt is completely different from operating on a patient. It’s okay to be scared, Logan.”

“He could have been seriously injured.”

“He wasn’t. Virgil is fine.”

And maybe it was something Logan needed to hear, but when Roman spoke the words, he knew that he needed to hear them too. Virgil was fine. And maybe he’d be a little more broken after talking to his dad, but they would all pick up the pieces together.

“I…” Logan took a deep breath. “I know.”

Roman opened his arms a bit and Logan all but crashed into him, clinging to Roman tightly. He didn’t make a sound, but his shoulders were shaking. They stayed like that for several minutes. Roman rocked Logan as Logan unwound in Roman’s arms.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Logan pulled back and they both turned to find James standing behind them, fiddling with his hands. Roman tried not to glare. He knew this situation needed to go as smoothly as possible for Virgil’s sake. “Not at all,” he said then, after a brief hesitation, he stuck his hand out. “Roman Carroll.”

James’s shoulders eased just a fraction. “I’m James. James Gonzalez.”

Logan stiffened, looking away quickly and then back at James. “Gonzalez?” he prompted.

James gave Logan a patient smile and suddenly, Roman was very, very confused. Roman felt no uneasiness with James, nothing like what he felt with Remus or even with Patton’s grandparents the one time he accidentally met them.

“Yes,” James said. “Alejandro and I got divorced.”

The world nearly shifted underneath Roman’s feet. He’d never heard of divorced soulmates. Never. Not once. Platonic? Yes, of course. Married for convenience? Of course. Just friends. Not married but in love. Married but open. Roman had come across a million different variations of soulmates.

Divorced was not one of them.

The door opened and Patton popped out. He stalled, door half open when he saw James talking to Roman and Logan.

Logan instantly took Patton’s hand as if sensing his rising anger. 

“Is Virgil awake?” James asked.

“I’m up,” Virgil called from inside the room. “Time to talk, Papa.”

* * *

Silence filled the room like water. Neither James nor Virgil had spoken a word since James settled down in the armchair. They just stared at each other then shifted their gazes to different parts of the room. 

More often than not, Virgil looked to his soulmates. Patton gave small, encouraging smiles. Logan gave affirming nods. Roman just stared back. He wasn’t sure what to make of this entire situation. He was still reeling from the divorced thing. He hadn’t even known soulmates  _ could _ get divorced. Divorce had been created for the sole purpose of non-soulmate marriages, after all.

“It’s good to see you,” James said finally, his voice like a belly flop into the silence of the room.

Virgil jerked a little at the sound before he nodded. “You too.”

“It’s okay, Little Cloud,” James said. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore.”

“I’m not-” Virgil started, but his father just gave him a soft reprimanding look and he fell silent. Virgil looked down at his hands, one of which was entwined with Patton’s fingers. “I guess you met everyone, right?”

“Yeah,” James gave Virgil’s soulmates a quick look. It looked more assessing than dismissive. “I knew Logan was one of your soulmates. Or at least a boyfriend.”

Virgil sputtered and James gave him a warm, teasing smirk. “You were much too close to just be friends,” he stated simply.

Roman nudged Logan as Logan turned to bury his face into Patton’s shoulder. Patton let out a small giggle, but he quickly smothered it. Virgil blushed bright red. “Papa,” he squeaked.

“Mr. Gonzalez,” Logan groaned.

“I’m not blind, Virgil,” James said and then he looked at Roman, Patton, and Logan again. “Also, boys, please, call me Dad or Papa.”

Roman’s confusion deepened and he could see the feeling echoed on Virgil’s face. His eyebrows furrowed together, his gaze shifting to his dad. “Gonzalez?” he asked softly.

James nodded. “Yeah” he said. “You dad and I aren’t together anymore.”

“What…” Virgil swallowed. “What happened?”

James shifted in his seat and turned his gaze to the window. “I guess, the easiest way to put it would be…” he sighed and looked back at Virgil with a warm, genuine smile. It was a look Roman had only ever seen on Mrs. Blumenthal’s face. Loving, open, paternal. “You.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and his breath hitched, but James just reached forward and placed his hand over Virgil’s free hand. “It’s nothing bad, I promise,” James said. “No, nothing bad at all.”

“I don’t… Understand.”

James took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “You and Adelaide are the best things that ever happened to me, Virgil. The  _ best _ things. And I know that I didn’t always make that clear. I know that… I know that I wasn’t the best Papa I could be. And I’m sorry. I have no excuse for that.”

Virgil’s eyes looked shiny now and Roman saw him grip Patton’s hand tighter. “Then why- Why didn’t you try harder?”

“I was…” James dipped his head, clearly ashamed. “Disillusioned. The world wasn’t like it is now when I was a kid. When I met Alejandro, the world was still very much a purist place. I grew up knowing that I had to marry my soulmate; that there was no other choice. I grew up surrounded by people that believed the same thing. And anyone who thought otherwise was  _ bad _ .

“When I saw your second soulmark, I panicked. I knew I’d always love you, but I was terrified that other people wouldn’t. I thought it was safer for you to hide that part of you away,” James smiled at Virgil’s soulmates. “I was wrong. So, so wrong.”

“Papa-” Virgil started and his voice cracked.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” James said. “Not now or ever, but I just wanted to talk to you. And I wanted to apologize. And if you ever need me, I  _ promise _ , I’ll be there for you.”

“What happened with Dad?” Virgil asked, tears rolling down his cheeks now.

“Your father,” James started but he looked away. “He didn’t want to make this right. It’s not his fault; his family was always more… Aggressive than mine. But I couldn’t be with a man that didn’t love our children as much as I did.”

He paused as if running over words in his head. “We were having problems about a million different things. Not just you,” he said. “We decided to take a break. And then I met Oliver.”

Virgil’s eyebrows shot up. His dad rolled his eyes. “No teasing.”

“You have a  _ boyfriend _ ?” Virgil almost shrieked.

“Yeah?”

Roman was still very confused, but he figured that didn’t matter. In Virgil’s story, he was a side character. And that was okay. As long as he got to be a character at all in his story. He didn’t need all of the gaps filled, as long as Virgil was happy.

“Is he cute?” Roman asked.

James looked over at Roman with a wide, beaming smile. “Oh  _ very _ ,” he said before pulling out his phone. “He’s a writer.”

He showed them a picture and Patton’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh! Oliver Aberdeen?” he practically shouted before he flushed. “Sorry, he’s my favorite author.”

Wow, Roman thought, small world.

“I’d be happy to introduce you,” James said.

“Patton’s an author too,” Virgil said.

“Unpublished,” Patton corrected.

“For now,” Logan added. “He is quite good.”

“I’m sure Oliver would love to read some of your work.”

“Oh, no,” Patton let out a nervous giggle. “I couldn’t- Show my work to Oliver Aberdeen? I can’t-”

Roman watched as everyone traded words and laughed along, but when he looked over at Virgil, he stopped. Virgil was smiling softly. And Roman could tell, just by looking at him, that he hadn’t forgiven James entirely. But Roman knew that this was a step in the right direction.

And he knew that, in the end, it would all work out for the best.

* * *

Vacations, as it turned out, were quite expensive. For a few weeks, the four of them bounced ideas back and forth. The beach. Or a national forest. Or the Great Lakes.  _ Any  _ lake. Camping turned into a need to buy camping supplies. Road trips included gas money and hotel expenses. Cross country meant plane tickets and, again, hotel expenses.

And before they knew it, Logan’s birthday was upon them. Roman found it interesting that all of their birthdays were so close to each other with Roman being the oldest in March and Virgil the youngest in July.

Roman brought the topic up to Virgil and Patton one night when Logan was out with Thomas for dinner.

“What are we doing for Logan’s birthday?” he asked.

Virgil paused in cooking his food and looked over at Roman. Patton grinned widely. “Yeah? Is there something you usually do?”

“Uh,” Virgil turned back to his food. “No, not really.”

“Does he not like celebrating it?” Patton asked.

“Not with me,” Virgil muttered. Roman tilted his head when he noticed that Virgil seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic. “He spends it in Washington with his Nana and Thomas.”

“Why?” Roman questioned.

Virgil shrugged and Roman knew that the conversation was over. Roman looked over at Patton, who gave a quick nod. They needed to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Roman was the first one to get to the chance. He found Logan in the living room a couple of days later, going over some paperwork. Roman was still a bit tired from helping out at the theater. It was odd, being a part of the production without being  _ in _ it, but he wasn’t minding it all that much. He still preferred performing, of course. But being with his friends was honestly the best part.

He’d wanted to ask Thomas about the “going to Washington” thing, but Thomas had been out for the day for whatever reason.

Logan didn’t even glance up as Roman entered, lingering in the entrance way. As always, Logan looked frustratingly handsome, his hair just a bit mussed, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The edge of his pen was caught between his lips, but he clearly wasn’t biting down on it as he mouthed something to himself.

“You busy, Specs?” Roman asked eventually.

Logan looked up, his eyes were a bit wide, but nothing else suggested that Roman had startled him. His expression relaxed and he smiled softly at Roman. “No, did you need something?”

Roman crossed the room and, without really thinking about it, kneeled down in front of Logan. Logan looked a bit confused, his eyebrows furrowing. “Are you alright, Roman?” he asked.

“Yes,” Roman said. “But I needed to ask you something.”

Logan looked around apprehensively. “Yes?”

“Why do you go to Washington for your birthday?”

Logan’s shoulders immediately slumped, his nervous expression giving way to a sudden sadness that caught Roman completely off guard. Logan hunched his shoulders and looked away. “Did Virgil not tell you?”

Now, Roman was a little concerned. “No. What is it?”

“Our, Thomas and my, birthday is the anniversary of our Dad’s death,” Logan said and Roman’s chest tightened. Going back to Washington made sense now. “It is a difficult time for my entire family, especially our Nana. So we go over there. She loves to spoil us when she can and it is harder for her now that we both live on the other side of the country.”

“I understand,” Roman said before he reached out and gently took Logan’s hands and gently kissed his palms.

Logan leaned forward and rested his forehead on Roman’s. “I wish you three could come as well,” he said softly. “Nana would love you.”

Well, that… Roman forced his scheming smile back. That was  _ certainly _ an idea.

* * *

“You are absolutely brilliant,” Patton exclaimed before he tugged Roman into a kiss.

Roman had just explained his plan to Patton, knowing that he would be on board with it immediately. Getting Virgil on board would likely take more coercing. But Roman knew this was the perfect idea, even if he would need to pull a few strings to make it happen.

The kiss was likely meant to be chaste, but it quickly turned into something much more heated. The two of them pulled back eventually, grinning wildly at each other. Patton practically hopped in place. “Okay,” he said with a bright, bubbly giggle. “Okay, this is  _ amazing _ . Oh gosh, I hope Logan loves it.”

“Hope I love what?” Logan asked as he stepped into the kitchen.

Roman and Patton jumped back from each other. Patton chuckled nervously as Roman studied one of the kitchen chairs. “Hope you love the berry tarts I’ve been working on!” Patton squeaked unconvincingly. “They have your favorite jam in them.”

Logan blinked, obviously trying to conceal his smile. “Oh well, that sounds excellent, Patton. I look forward to trying them.”

He walked past them, placing a kiss on Patton’s forehead and one on Roman’s cheek. He reached into the fridge. “I am sorry our vacation got placed on the metaphorical back burner,” Logan said as he grabbed the orange juice. “We should do something when I return from Washington.”

“Yeah, sure,” Patton squeaked and Roman elbowed him.

Logan looked at them suspiciously. “Are you feeling quite alright, Patton?”

“Just a little tired.”

Logan sighed. “I knew you came to bed late last night.”

Patton made a small offended noise. “I went to bed as soon as Virgil got home,” he said.

Both Roman and Logan gave him a dubious look. “I heard the shower going last night, Pat,” Roman said and Patton flushed.

“Okay, we  _ eventually _ made it to the bed.”

“You should wake us up next time,” Logan said and both Roman and Patton blushed bright red. Logan finished pouring his juice, giving them a smirk as he passed. “I am awake now though.”

The juice was left abandoned on the table.

* * *

Roman told Virgil the plan two days later when the two of them were curled up in bed together. They’d spent the better part of the morning exchanging lazy kisses under the sheets, but Virgil eventually dipped his head into Roman’s shoulder and sighed.

“I always miss Logan when he goes to Washington,” he said, his breath ghosting across Roman’s neck.

“You ever gone with him?” Roman asked.

Virgil shifted so he was basically laying on top of Roman, his face in the same place. Roman’s arms automatically wound around his waist. “I went to a wedding for his cousin once, but that was it. His family is awesome though. No one gave two shits about Logan having more than one soulmate.”

“Patton’s mom is like that.”

“Do your parents care?” Virgil asked.

Roman gave a half shrug, but Virgil whined and Roman settled. “They’ve never really said one way or the other,” Roman admitted. “They just want me to be happy, I guess.”

“Are you?” Virgil asked.

“Am I what?”

“Happy?”

Roman smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head. “More than I’ve ever been,” he whispered softly. Then he remembered the plan. “I already talked to Patton about it, but-”

“You want to surprise Logan by going to Washington while he’s there, right?”

Roman pulled back to look down at Virgil in shock and Virgil smirked up at him. “For someone who loves surprises,” Virgil said with a laugh in his voice. “You’re terrible at keeping a secret.”

“I am  _ not _ ,” Roman protested with a huff. Virgil just kissed him and yeah, maybe it placated Roman’s protest. When Virgil pulled away, Roman frowned. “Do you think Logan knows?”

Virgil chuckled and shook his head. “No, Logan is surprisingly bad at noticing stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what?”

“You know,” Virgil looked bittersweet. “Noticing when people care about him.”

“Oh.”

Yes, Roman knew that Logan was a bit terrible at seeing things like that. The two of them were alike in that way. He pulled Virgil a bit closer. “So what do you say?”

“Why do you think I brought it up?”

Roman huffed out a laugh. “Is that a yes then?”

“Yes,” Virgil said, exasperated. “Dork.”

Roman kissed him and the two of them didn’t talk for awhile after that.

* * *

The hardest part was acting sad rather than excited. Roman summoned all of his acting skills as they waited in the airport with Logan.

Patton and Virgil kept sharing  _ very _ conspicuous glances and Roman begged the acting gods for strength not to mess up. He  _ might’ve _ overdone it when he burst into tears. “Farewell, my love,” he exclaimed, clutching Logan’s hand with all of his might.

Logan looked mildly amused with a touch of concern. “I will return in a week,” he said, casting a glance over at Kris and Thomas who were watching with amused expressions by the entrance. “There is no need to cry, Roman.”

“I am going to miss you so, so dearly,” Roman said, dabbing at his eyes. “You will text everyday, of course?”

“Yes,” Logan rolled his eyes. “And I will video chat you every night as I have already promised.”

“Promise.”

Logan sighed before grabbed Roman’s shoulder and pulled him into a kiss that left Roman seeing stars. Roman glanced back at Patton and Virgil, who were watching with positively gleeful smiles. And Roman quite nearly broke character right then and there.

“I will see you soon,” Logan said into Roman’s ear.

Roman nodded dumbly. Logan would see them sooner than he thought.

Logan stepped around Roman to give Patton and Virgil similarly heated kisses. And then he turned and practically ran into the building, dragging Kris and Thomas in with him.

Virgil had his phone out in a second, pressing it to his ear. “Okay,” he said. “We’re ready.”

Before Roman really processed what was happening, Declan’s ratty old car came screeching around the corner and shuddered to a stop in front of them. Missy’s head popped out. “A very special delivery for three Mister Alvarados.”

Virgil groaned, his cheeks red. “Even if we got married,” he said and that thought sent butterflies fluttering in Roman’s stomach. “I don’t think we’re taking my last name.”

Patton entwined his fingers with Roman’s. “I am quite fond of my name,” Patton said, leaning against Roman.

“A rose by any other name smells just as sweet,” Roman whispered and pressed a kiss to Patton’s knuckles.

“I like Blumenthal,” Virgil said with a nod. “But Sanders is nice too.”

“We could just smash all of our names together,” Roman suggested, well aware that all of them were blushing bright red. “Alvumenaroders has a great ring to it.”

“I am seriously regretting my joke,” Missy muttered before she got out of the car. 

“Come on,” Declan exclaimed as he hopped up on his window and peered over the edge of the car. “Let’s get your junk out. Missy and I have a concert to crash.”

Virgil gave his friends a pointed look. “Do  _ not _ bother the Wailing Banshees.”

“The Wailing Banshees?” Patton asked with a tilt of his head.

“They’re a subpar band that beat out Virgil’s band in the last Battle of the Bands,” Missy said with more disdain than Roman had ever heard in someone’s voice. “Cheating little b-”

“Okay!” Virgil exclaimed, stepping past her to open Declan’s trunk. “Our flight leaves two hours after Logan’s. Let’s get this party on the road.”

“Don’t you mean get this party in the air?” Patton said with a wide grin.

Everyone groaned, but Roman couldn’t stop smiling when Patton let out a maniacal laugh. And he didn’t miss the small smirk on Virgil’s lips either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER!!!
> 
> Summary: Logan is home.


	20. logan sanders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan gets a surprise.

“You are glowing.”

Logan looked up from his phone over at Nana, who was grinning at him. His gaze dropped down to the group chat he and he boyfriends used. There wasn’t a lot of words in the most recent texts, just a lot of hearts and a picture Virgil took of Roman and Patton cuddling on the couch. 

Self consciously, Logan ran a hand over his cheeks. He felt a little bad for not talking so much, especially since Kris and Thomas left to visit their friends about an hour ago.

“Am I?” he asked.

Nana nodded before taking a sip of her tea. “I thought you looked happy when you brought Virgil to Kristie's wedding,” she said. “But now, you look… Well, you look-”

She looked away out towards the window, her smile just a touch melancholy. “You look like your father,” she said. “When he looked at your mother.”

Logan’s heart clenched. But that was all. Before he met all of his soulmates, those words would have sent him into a spiral. He would have panicked. Been afraid. Been terrified of losing them. But now he just felt… Nostalgic? The word did not seem right, but it was the closest he could come.

“You love them very much, don’t you?” Nana asked, turning back to him.

“More than anything,” he answered automatically before flushing. “I do not think that words can describe what I feel for them.”

“I was the same way with your grandfather,” she said. She paused, contemplative. “You know, I was always afraid when I was a kid.”

Logan blinked at his grandmother. He could not imagine Dorothy Sanders being afraid of  _ anything _ . Logan recalled a moment when she had used a rake to scoop up a snake and deposit him elsewhere. She killed spiders for Thomas, even the big ones that sometimes freaked Logan out a bit too. His Nana just laughed, “Don’t look so surprised, hun. Even I get afraid sometimes.”

“I apologize. I am just curious.”

“I grew up without a soulmate,” Nana said with a shrug. “In a world where that was very much  _ not _ okay. You can’t even imagine what your grandfather and I had to do just to get married.”

Logan had never even thought about that. Marriage had not always been an option for non-soulmate couples; it was a law passed in 1956 that legalized it in America. He never really considered that it had affected Nana and Grandpa. “We were the first non-soulmate couple to get married in Washington,” Nana continued. “Took it all the way to the Supreme Court.”

Logan did not bother to hide his surprise. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are you telling me this?”

Nana reached across the table and patted Logan’s hand. “The world has changed, Loganberry, but people are still going to try and invalidate your relationship. They’re going to do it for the rest of your life. But you are going to change  _ so  _ many minds. All of you.”

Logan opened his mouth to respond when the doorbell rang. Nana smiled and if Logan was not mistaken, she looked borderline conspiratorial. “Why don’t you get the door?” she said before she pushed back and to Logan’s bafflement, started making more tea. Was she expecting guests?

“Okay,” he muttered.

He answered the door slowly, not bothering to check out the window or peephole. Redwood was a small town and he was sure he would recognize anyone on the other side. And then he stopped cold.

His three boyfriends were all grinning at him on the other side of the door. “Hiya, Lo-lo,” Patton exclaimed before he launched forward.

Logan caught him in a hug only by instinct. Virgil offered a shy wave and Roman planted his hands triumphantly on his hips. “You said you wanted us to come with!” Roman said loudly.

Logan did not know what to say, finding himself at a complete loss for words. His chest and throat felt tight. Patton nuzzled his cheek with a giggle. “Happy birthday, Logan!” he whispered.

“Who’s at the door, Loganberry?” Nana called from the kitchen with a knowing tone. 

Oh that  _ witch _ . Logan would bet anything that Thomas and Kris had been in on this as well. “Are you okay, L?” Virgil asked.

Logan did not understand why he was asking until Patton pulled back and wiped away the tears from his cheeks. “Yes,” he said with a bitten off sob. He smiled at his three soulmates. “I am more than alright.”

He didn’t protest when his other two soulmates also pulled him into one large group hug. He just buried his face into Roman’s shoulder and allowed himself to be enveloped.

“Loganberry!” Nana’s shout came from inside the house. “Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriends or what?”

Roman and Patton giggled while Logan rolled his eyes. His gaze met Virgil’s over Roman’s shoulder and Virgil smiled. “I see Mrs. Sanders is as chipper as ever,” Virgil said.

“ _ You _ ,” Logan hissed though there was no malice behind his words. “You told her.”

Virgil raised his hands, gloveless, with a smirk. “I didn’t plan on us showing up unannounced.”

“I did!” Roman exclaimed.

Patton raised a hand sheepishly, “I was the one that decided we should tell Tomothy and Kris.”

Logan decided to let the “Tomothy” thing slide, just this once. Instead, he laced his fingers together with Patton’s. Roman and Virgil were already holding hands, he noted, and as much as he’d like to hold one of their hands as well, there wasn’t much practicality in trying to shuffle through the door like that. So he just gripped Patton’s a little tighter, as if by some weird soulmate dynamic, that it would spread to Roman and Virgil as well.

“I suppose I should introduce you to Nana.”

“You’ll love her,” Virgil said to Patton and Roman.

And she was going to love them too. Logan smiled fondly at his soulmates before leading them through the door. “Nana,” he called into his childhood home. “These are my soulmates.”

* * *

The air was growing warmer, but it was still very chilly in the early morning when they all woke up to go to their destination. Logan and Thomas’s birthday was tomorrow, but there was one tradition of coming to Redwood that Logan would never let go, even with his soulmates here.

Logan pressed in a bit closer to Roman than usual as the four of them passed through the gates to the cemetery. Virgil and Patton were a step behind them, leaning into each other tiredly. They’d all stayed up way too late the night before, though Logan honestly blamed Roman more than anything. Patton had declared it the “best slumber party ever” before Roman pointed out that Patton had never had a slumber party. Patton still stood by his statement and Virgil backed him up, even though his only slumber parties had been staying over at a friend’s house after a party.

Logan had to agree though: it had been a wonderful night. They must’ve run through the entirety of the Sanders’s board game collection and watched every Disney movie under the sun before promptly passing out in various places in the living room.

For Logan, that place had been with Virgil on the couch. Logan woke up with his hand in Patton’s, who was curled up on the armchair, and with Virgil’s hand in Roman’s, who was sleeping on the ground. It had been a wonderful way to wake up, even with the ache in his body from sleeping in an unusual position,

But that lovely feeling had immediately sobered up when he remembered their plans for that day.

Logan felt a little silly, honestly, introducing his soulmates to his deceased parents. He did not believe in an afterlife and, if he was honest, did not think that his mother and father would be able to hear the introductions. But this did feel right, he decided as they passed by gravestone after gravestone. It felt like a sort of closure.

He stopped in front of the gravestones he knew so well. The weeds had been pulled and there was a wreath of flowers on each slab of rock. Someone had been there recently, probably Thomas the day before. The two of them rarely came on the same days, which seemed a bit unusual to outsiders. It made perfect sense to Logan. He and Thomas both had very different relationships with their parents’ deaths and very different views about what happened next.

Silence fell over the four of them. Logan did not usually talk when he came to see them. But, for the sake of his soulmates, he forced out a very small, “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”

“Hello, Mister and Missus Sanders,” Roman greeted, just as warmly as he spoke to a living human being.

Logan’s cheeks burned. Yes, this all seemed very silly. Patton stepped forward and started to see the bouquets down. He said something to the gravestones very quietly, so quietly that Logan did not hear him. Virgil snorted, immediately flushing when Logan turned to look at him.

“What did you say?” he asked when Patton moved back, snaking a hand into Virgil’s hoodie pocket, where Virgil’s hands were.

Patton gave Logan a cheery smile. “Oh, this and that.”

Logan felt like there was some joke he was not in on. Roman’s grip tightened on his hand as he shuffled closer to Logan. “Are you going to introduce us?” he asked. Logan expected there to be a note of teasing, a hint of laughter. But there was none. He was completely serious.

“Oh, um,” Logan shuffled. “Mom, Dad, these are my soulmates. You have already met Virgil, of course.”

Logan glanced back at Virgil, who gave a small nod and offered a soft smile to Logan. Logan took a breath and continued. He waved his and Roman’s clasped hands a little at the gravestones. “This is Roman Carroll.”

“An unequivocal pleasure,” Roman said with what could only be described as a bow.

Patton came to stand next to Logan, dragging Virgil forward with him. Logan immediately reached for his hand and Patton wasted no time twining their fingers together. “And this is Patton Blumenthal,” Logan said with a bit more confidence. Patton dropped his head on Logan’s shoulder. Logan could feel the lump rising in his throat, his chest tightening. “I love them all very much, Mom and Dad. More than I ever thought possible. And-and-”

He was not sure what else to say. All four of them shuffled in closer together until they were all touching in some way. Logan fought against the sobs starting to build, but they came anyway.

_ I know that you would love them too _ .

He did not say it— _ could _ not say it—but for some inexplicable reason, he felt as though they had heard him. And for Logan, that was more than enough.

* * *

Logan adjusted his tie and looked at himself in the mirror. 

Nearly a year had passed since he met Patton and Roman, since all four of them came together. And he had to admit that it had been the happiest year of his life. He suspected that many,  _ many _ happy years would follow and for once, he was unafraid of the prospect of the future. Of the future he would spend with them by his side.

“I honestly just want to rip that tux off of you,” Roman said as he stepped behind Logan and wound his arms around his waist.

Logan flushed, his words catching in his throat. He did not think he would ever get used to any of this. He did not think he wanted to either. Roman looked completely dashing in his obsidian tux, with a vest so dark red it almost passed for black.

He looked at Roman’s reflection in the mirror and gave him a faint smirk. “You can,” he said before turning around in Roman’s arms and giving him a small shove. “ _ Later _ .”

“You two better not being making out without us!” Patton exclaimed as he flung open the door. 

Patton’s smile was bright and warm and Logan’s smirk turned much more fond. Patton had opted for the brightest vest out of all of them, of course, a light baby blue that complimented Logan’s navy blue very nicely. Their tuxes were also black, of course, though Logan wore a navy blue tie and Patton a baby blue bowtie.

“We’re going to be late,” Virgil said quietly from behind Patton.

Logan stepped away from Roman, who was looking at Patton and Virgil with utterly starstruck expression. “You cannot wear your hoodie to a wedding,” Logan said as he stepped forward.

Virgil huffed and rolled his eyes. “I was  _ cold, _ ” he muttered as Logan unzipped his hoodie to reveal a dark violet vest.

Patton bounced across the room, grabbing Virgil’s coat. Roman caught Patton around the waist and started peppering kisses on his face. Logan and Virgil watched them with small smiles. “Did you ever think you’d be this happy?” Virgil asked softly, so softly that the other two didn’t hear over their giggles.

Logan looked over at Virgil, who tore his gaze away from Roman and Patton to look up at him. “No,” Logan answered honestly before he wrapped an arm around Virgil’s waist and pulled him closer. “But I could not ask for anything more.”

Virgil fell into Logan’s kiss without hesitation and Logan did not notice the other two approaching them until Patton clapped his hands together. Logan and Virgil startled away from each other. Patton just smiled at them. “Okay, now we are  _ really _ going to be late.”

“We’re already planning on being there forty-five minutes beforehand, Pat,” Roman said. “I think we’ll be fine.”

Patton whirled around to point a finger to Roman. “That is where you are wrong, dear Prince Charming.”

“Patton is right,” Logan said as he reluctantly pulled away from Virgil. “I cannot afford to be late.”

“We should probably get a wiggle on then,” Patton said, effectively shoving them all out of the door. He handed Virgil his coat and grabbed the keys and Logan had to admit that he was impressed with Patton’s efficiency today. “Tomothy will likely kill all of us if we make his best man late.”

“You could all just come later,” Logan suggested for the hundredth time since the plans were made.”

“Nonsense!” Roman declared. “We must escort you to the wedding.”

“And we need to make sure we get good seats,” Virgil muttered. 

Logan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “What for?”

Virgil gave Roman a little smirk over his shoulder. “To take pictures.”

“ _ Virgil _ ,” Roman whined, stomping his foot. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that.”

“What are you taking pictures of?” Logan asked as Patton hurried outside and shut the door.

Patton whirled around with his brightest smile yet. “Of you, of course!” he said, waving the camera he’d gotten for his birthday in front of them. Logan sputtered as Patton raced to the front of their group and latched onto Logan’s hand. “C’mon, let’s get this party started.”

* * *

The wedding was inside because it was early December, after all, and nobody felt like freezing during the ceremony. Logan bid farewell to his soulmates, an act that took much longer than it should have, and hurried down the halls of the venue until he found the room he knew Thomas was in.

He was surprised, however, to find the room emptied of everyone except for his twin. Thomas was staring out the window, tugging at the sleeves of his tuxedo. He had not stirred when Logan opened the door.

“Thomas?” Logan called out softly and Thomas turned.

Logan was startled by the sheen over his brother’s eyes. He closed the door and stepped further in, raising his arms in offering. Thomas stepped into his hug without hesitation. “I do not think you are supposed to cry before the wedding,” Logan said, woodenly holding Thomas. He tried to rub up and down Thomas’s spine, but he doubted it helped.

Thomas pulled back with a small wet laugh. He wiped at the tears filling his eyes. “I was just thinking,” he said and Logan understood what was going on.

“About Mom and Dad?” Logan asked as Thomas returned to the window.

Logan went to join him, staring down at the New York City below them. They were not very high up by the city’s standards, but it was still a nice view. “Yeah,” Thomas muttered as he wrung his hands together. “Do you think they’d like Kris?”

Logan peered at Thomas with a raised eyebrow. “Do you believe that they would not?”

“No,” Thomas shook his head. “I think they would, but we’ll never know, will we?”

“No,” Logan said as he turned back to the window. “I do not suppose we will.”

Thomas looked over at Logan with a warm smile. “You know, Loganberry, I’m really happy for you.”

“What?”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. Why was Thomas saying this now on the day of  _ his _ wedding? He should be more concerned with his own happiness at the moment. Thomas just gave a small shake of his head. “I was worried,” Thomas said. “When we were kids. Especially when all of your soulmarks showed up and you just… Shut them away. Anyways, I’m happy for you. That you have people that love and understand you even better than I do. I’m happy that  _ you’re _ happy.”

Logan could not do anything except for blink at Thomas’s words. It was true. When they were younger, Logan thought that no one could possibly understand him as well as Thomas did. Thomas was always there when he needed him. He always knew what Logan needed, sometimes before Logan did. And even now, Thomas was  _ here _ , telling Logan that he was happy for him on the day of Thomas’s wedding.

Sometimes ago, Logan would have latched onto Thomas’s words as a sort of lifeline. He would have accepted it as truth because his twin said it, not because he believed it.

But there, in that little hotel room, Logan thought of his soulmates. 

He thought of Virgil. Of Virgil singing and playing the guitar, or any of his other instruments. Of Virgil’s long fingers and dark eyes and soft, gentle smiles. Of his light chuckles and unexpected snorts and constant vigilance. Logan thought of the way he made drinks and how he knew what Logan needed and wanted and thought. Of their friendship that had always been something more.

He thought of Patton. Of Patton’s bright smiles, grins that put everyone else’s to shame. Of the unexpected tattoos lining his arms or the way he created entire worlds and stories from nothing but his mind. Of his big blue eyes and the constellation of freckles across his face. He thought of Patton’s hidden depths, how he cared too deeply sometimes. Of how he would always be there to catch Logan when he stumbled and how Logan would always catch him too.

He thought of Roman. Of Roman on stage, too bright, too dramatic, too engaging to be on such a small scale stage. Of how Roman looked at the world straight on with an attitude of someone that could not be stopped. He thought of Roman’s orange-red hair, the strands soft as Logan dragged his hands through it, and of Roman’s green eyes, so green it startled Logan sometimes. Of Roman’s tenacity and strength and stubbornness, of his unexpectedly quick-wit that would always keep Logan on his toes.

And Logan thought of himself. Of a boy once scared to love. Of a man that now loved more fiercely than he ever had. Of how, yes, Logan was completely and utterly happy.

Logan wanted to run back down the stairs and shower his soulmates in kisses. He wanted to tell them how much he loved them, embrace them and hold them and be with them. But instead, he turned to Thomas, who was beaming at him now. Thomas’s smile faltered a bit when Logan reached into his pocket and withdrew a small trinket, a little plastic dinosaur he got as a kid at an arcade. “I believe the term is ‘something borrowed’?”

Thomas laughed and accepted the dinosaur, stuffing it into his pocket. “Thanks, Loganberry.”

“Now,” Logan smiled softly at Thomas. “It is time for you to get married.”

“ _ Finally _ ,” Thomas said as they left the room.

Yes, Logan wanted to be with his soulmates every moment of every day.. He wanted to wake next to them and go to sleep with them. He wanted to help them rise and catch them when they fell. He wanted to love them, more ferociously than he had ever loved anyone for the rest of his life.

But right now, Thomas was getting married, and honestly? Logan knew that the four of them had nothing but time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably not as long as you were hoping, especially for how long it took me to post this, but idk... I'm not great at writing endings and this just felt... Right? The right way to end it.
> 
> So anyways, hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! I really enjoyed using this soulmate-verse that I created and honestly, I just wanted to deal with a more in-depth version of a soulmate story, with more world-building and stuff. And here is the product.
> 
> Thank you for all the kind words, I really appreciate it! And I love you all dearly. 
> 
> I am thinking of writing a Sanders Side fantasy AU though I am not sure of the ships yet {although, as always, I'm leaning towards LAMP} or much more than a basic plot. But who knows? Stay tuned! I will still be accepting prompts for this verse if you want to send them to me on Tumblr {[Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/)} though. >.< Honestly, I'll accept most prompts for the fandoms I'm a member of.
> 
> Anyways! Hope you enjoyed the finale and I hope you all have a wonderful day. Sweet water and light laughter until we meet again. Bye-bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, check out my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and cool stuffs. Plus, I answer any and all asks on Sundays!


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